


"Celebrations: The Prixin Logs" and "The Reason for the Season"

by CyberMum, fmlyhntr, jamelia116, juli17ptf, Penny_P, Rocky_T, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [20]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crew as Family, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 04:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberMum/pseuds/CyberMum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmlyhntr/pseuds/fmlyhntr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116, https://archiveofourown.org/users/juli17ptf/pseuds/juli17ptf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_P/pseuds/Penny_P, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: TheVoyagercrew celebrated two major holiday seasons during their stay on New Hope.The first chapter, "The Reason for the Season" by Andra Marie, is an Interlude which takes place at Christmas.A few days later, the holiday Neelix introduced to Voyager was celebrated. For eight days, the crew went about their normal duties during the day, but in the evening, they observed Prixin, the Talaxian Celebration of Family, which has become an integral part ofVoyager'syear. It's a time of remembrance, hope...and change.





	1. Prelude: "The Reason for the Season," or Christmas on Voyager

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Paramount and CBS currently own the entire Star Trek franchise. We acknowledge their absolute rights to the concept and the characters. We do not claim to possess anything but love for those characters and what Star Trek means to us. Our imaginations take the Voyager crew on voyages the producers of the series never did, and we like to share them with like-minded individuals. Thank you, Paramount, for letting us do this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time, the beginning of Voyager's "holiday season" this year. Although it has no connection with Prixin, which has become the Voyager family's most important holiday, many of the human members of the crew have traditionally marked this day as a special one. Neelix has prepared a special dinner, and as always, he's gone "all out" with traditional decorations--like mistletoe.

**The Reason for the Season**  
  
**A Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 Holiday Interlude**   
**  
** **by Andra Marie, edited by jamelia116**

"Remind me again why we're here."  
  
"Because it's a tradition. And because we agreed that it's important to expose our daughter to as many cultural events as we can, even if she's just been born."  
  
"She won't remember any of this when she gets older," B'Elanna grumbled, but very softly. She didn't want to wake up Miral, who had just fallen asleep in her arms.  
  
"No, but the Doc is snapping away with his imager. We'll be able to show her she was here. No problem. Smile, B'Elanna!"  
  
B'Elanna showed her teeth -- although it could as easily be taken as a grimace as a smile in future years. "Thanks for warning me," she said to Tom before taking a sip of her drink. Frowning at the glass in her hand, she added, "Somebody should have warned us about exposing ourselves to Neelix's version of egg nog. It gets worse every year."  
  
"So does your temper," Tom pointed out.  
  
"Maybe, but you have to admit, I keep you on your toes."  
  
"That you do," Tom allowed. He slipped his arm around his little family and steered them beneath the nearest sprig of mistletoe. After he bent his head to give his sleeping infant daughter a gentle kiss on her rippled brow, he bestowed the very same gift upon his wife. Thanks to B'Elanna's sunny return smile, the new parents remained oblivious to a quick addition the Doctor made to his image files.   
  
*  
  
"Here you go, Mister Vulcan!" Neelix declared cheerfully. "One glass of spiced Talaxian cider."  
  
"Thank you, Mister Neelix," Tuvok responded automatically, "but I am perfectly content with my tea."  
  
"On the contrary, because tonight is a special occasion, you should get into the spirit of things and try drinking something a little more festive."  
  
The Vulcan stifled a sigh. "Very well," he relented, and taking the cup from Neelix, brought it to his lips for an experimental taste. "An intriguing beverage."  
  
The Talaxian Morale Officer clasped his hands together in obvious delight. "I am pleased you like it, Mister Tuvok. Do you think I should offer some to the captain?"  
  
"Captain Janeway is always open to new experiences," Tuvok demurred.  
  
Nodding in agreement, Neelix excused himself and wandered back to the galley to rustle up another mug of tea. As soon as he left, Tuvok discreetly crossed over the replicator and deposited the drink Neelix had given him into the recycler.  
  
*  
  
"This is a lovely party," Marla remarked.  
  
"Yes, it is," Harry agreed. "I'm glad you're here with us to share it."  
  
"Thank you for inviting me. We never observed any special occasions on the _Equinox_. Just surviving from one day to the next seemed to be celebration enough."  
  
A shadow of remembered pain passed across her face, and Harry flashed her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure it was incredibly difficult," he replied, "but you're on _Voyager_ now. I promise you, there will be lots of happy occasions ahead to celebrate, including our return home."  
  
Marla smiled. "Ever the optimist," she remarked. "I like that."  
  
Their conversation was interrupted by the Doctor, who greeted them with a friendly smile. "Good evening, Miss Gilmore, Mister Kim."  
  
"Doc," Harry replied and smiled for the picture the Doctor took of the pair.  
  
He then handed them each a small hypospray. "Just in case you decide to celebrate with something more interesting than synthehol or egg nog, this should help ensure that the effects wear off in time for your next duty shift."  
  
Marla and Harry exchanged an amused glance as the Doctor continued.  
  
"Given the reaction from Captain Janeway when half of the senior staff reported to the Bridge the morning after last year's party with 'obvious aftereffects of overindulgence with non-regulation beverages,' I thought a little bit of preventative medicine this year might save us a great deal of grief."  
  
"Ingenious thinking, Doctor," Marla commended.  
  
"Thank you, Ensign. Sometimes I amaze even myself."  
  
*  
  
"I suppose I should get this over with."  
  
"It's not like it's your first time."  
  
"No, but instead of getting easier every year, it seems to get harder."  
  
Chakotay shrugged. "If it really bothers you that much, you can always delegate the annual speech to someone else," he suggested. "I'm sure Tuvok or Neelix would be happy to take over for you."  
  
Kathryn smiled. "That's an excellent idea, Commander. Thank you for suggesting it."  
  
Excusing herself, she made her way to the center of the room. Retrieving a knife from a nearby table, she clinked it against her glass.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please?"  
  
The various conversations throughout the room filtered to a halt as the officers present turned their attention to their captain.  
  
"For the past six years, we have gathered here to celebrate the Terran holiday known as Christmas. Every year I've stood before you and dutifully delivered a speech in honor of the occasion. However, as all good things must come to an end, I am officially relinquishing my speech giving responsibility to my faithful First Officer. Commander Chakotay, you have the floor."  
  
The former Maquis gave her a smile that bespoke of retribution as he assumed her position at the front of the crowd.  
  
"Well, I certainly wasn't prepared to practice my public speaking skills this evening, but now that I've been drafted, I'll give it a shot."  
  
Chakotay took a brief sip of his drink to wet his throat before beginning.  
  
"Over the years, I've had the privilege of sharing this ship with you and getting to know many of you on a personal basis. We all have our own outlooks on life, as well as varied opinions on all subjects relating to that. Yet despite our different religious beliefs, we all gather here to celebrate Christmas and the true reason for the season. For, along with the ancient religious connotations associated with this holiday, it's also about the simple things we all adhere to: peace, hope and love. During our tenure on _Voyager,_ we have come to appreciate the importance of these things, which strengthen the bonds we've forged between us. So tonight, as we enjoy the festivities and time spent with those we care about, take a moment to reflect on why we're here. And if you're so inclined, pray for the gift of our very own miracle: a safe, successful journey home."  
  
He raised his glass in a silent salute, as did the rest of the crowd, and everyone took a sip before their conversations resumed. Smiling affectionately, Kathryn walked back over to stand beside him. "Not bad for a spur of the moment speech," she replied.  
  
"Thank you, but you now owe me one."  
  
"Fair enough. Name your price, but keep it within reason."  
  
Chakotay flashed her a killer smile. "Is a kiss under the mistletoe within reason?" His eyes flicked above her head. She followed his gaze upward and smiled, wondering if she'd unconsciously moved beneath the bit of traditional holiday greenery, or if her subconscious mind had prompted her to stand here. Whichever it was, it gave her an excuse to do something she couldn't bring herself to do under other circumstances.  
  
Kathryn smiled wistfully back at him. "Who needs mistletoe?" Without giving him a chance to react, she stood on tiptoe. Placing a feather light kiss on his lips, she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Chakotay."

* * *

  
  
Original short story published 12/26/2001

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Andra Marie, who was part of our writer's group and contributed this little story to commemorate the 2001 holiday season here on Earth. It has been edited slightly, since Miral was actually born before Christmas, but Andra's original story stated that she hadn't been born yet. Thank you, Andra!
> 
> And now on to our main story, "Celebrations: The Prixin Logs."


	2. Prixin: Day 1--Convocation

**VIRTUAL SEASON 7.5****  
  
****episode 20****  
  
****Celebrations: The Prixin Logs**  
  
Compiled and Edited by: CyberMum

**  
**  
**Prixin: First Night - Convocation - Stardate: 5499**1  
  
  
"Neelix?"  
  
"Yes Naomi."  
  
"I was wondering if you would let me set up the candles for tonight."  
  
Neelix looked up. He was elbow deep in a bowl of compote. He'd spent the last hour paring, seeding, chopping, and marinating the fruit that he and several assistants had gathered on New Hope. It was such a pleasure to have so much fresh produce at hand. He had taken advantage of the planet's bounty, producing innovative meals for the crew over the past few months. Sarexa had been a great help. She had provided him with several new recipes, and both he and his consumers (as Harry had once called them) were obviously pleased with the results.  
  
Naomi's question provided him with a welcome excuse to take a break. He'd been working non-stop all morning. Prixin celebrations would begin this evening, and besides having to prepare eight days of traditional culinary fare, he had to make sure that all the particulars of each evening's events were worked out in detail. Captain Janeway had put Neelix in charge of the Prixin celebrations years ago, and he took his job very seriously.  
  
"Oh, Naomi, that would be so helpful." Neelix rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms to get the kinks out. "The candelabra is in storage locker number four in the pantry, and the candles are in the back of the freezer."  
  
"Thanks Neelix" Naomi said. "I just love our Prixin traditions. I think the candles are so pretty. I'll get it organized right now."  
  
"Be very careful back there," Neelix warned her. "I've stored some extra bags of moolt spice in the front of the cupboard. I'm going to need it very soon now," he added. He glanced quickly at the two bottles of Stavorian Delight Cordial standing innocently on the counter and shuddered, thinking of the havoc they could wreak without proper handling. _Voyager's kitchens could be as hazardous as...as Engineering,_ he thought.  
  
Naomi was already in the pantry. He heard the locker open.  
  
"I see it. I'll bring it to you, Neelix." The whispery rustle of the bag of spices was quickly superseded by the sounds of scrapes and bumps and a quickly suppressed, "oomph!"  
  
"Got it."  
  
Naomi emerged triumphantly from the pantry, a bulky parcel wrapped in a tattered quilted blanket cradled gently in her arms, the spice bag dangling from a loop around her wrist. She set her burden down on the counter and crossed behind Neelix to the cold storage units in the corner of the galley. She opened the freezer door and crouched down on her haunches.  
  
"I've got the candles, too," she said. "Where shall I set up?"  
  
"Why don't you decide, Naomi?" Neelix was busy untying the spice bag.  
  
Naomi stood still for a moment, surveying the Mess Hall. The room was lit by natural sunlight -- an unlooked for benefit from being planet bound. The choice was obvious. Naomi moved one of the smallest tables until it was under the largest porthole -- _or should that be a window?_ she wondered -- and stepped back. Perfect, she decided. She retrieved her package and the candles and brought them to the table.  
  
"Are you going to make trove bars too, Neelix?" Naomi asked him over her shoulder.  
  
"Of course, Sweeting," Neelix replied.  
  
"Oh goody." She grinned. It wouldn't be Prixin without them. "Just checking Neelix."  
  
Neelix smiled. Her enthusiasm delighted him. In spite of her Ktarian maturity, Naomi was in some ways still very much a child.  
  
She unwrapped the candelabra. It was made of a silvery alloy in the shape of an equilateral triangle and shone brightly in the sunlight. In the evening, it would reflect the dancing flames of the lighted candles. She opened up the box of tapers and gently spilled them out onto the table. Naomi took the tallest candle, a thick white one, and placed it carefully in the center of the triangle. She then arranged the rest of them -- red, blue and green ones -- each in its appropriate place. Neelix had explained it to her many years ago. The triangle represented the three aspects of life -- past, or Memory; present, or Gratitude; and future, or Hope. The white candle, the anchor, was Family.  
  
Neelix had also explained that in Talaxian families, Prixin lasts all day for each of the eight days of the festival. But when the _USS Voyager_ and her crew adopted the holiday as their own, some modifications had to be made. So the celebrations had been reduced to evening ceremonies and functions.  
  
Tonight, the first night, would be the Night of Convocation. Captain Janeway would light the first candle -- the white family one, which would burn for the entire eight days. She would speak to the assembled crew, inviting them to enjoy the week. And it was "grab bag" night. Everyone had to make something -- no replicating was allowed, although the materials they used could themselves be replicated.  
  
Some of the gifts were very funny. Naomi had always loved watching everyone open their gifts. It was so much fun to try to guess who had made what. Sometimes she and Neelix would have a secret contest to see who could guess the most correctly. This year, she thought she'd try to get Icheb to do some guessing too.  
  
"I'm done, Neelix." Naomi walked back toward the kitchen to where the Talaxian was back stirring the compote. "What do you think?"  
  
Neelix looked up and gazed at Naomi's handiwork.  
  
"Why Naomi, that's just perfect," Neelix said.  
  
"The crew will be able to see the candles whether they're inside or out."  
  
"Thanks, Neelix. That's what I thought. It will be easy to move the table to center of the room when we do the ceremonies, and move it back to the window after we're done. And thanks for letting me do it, too. I know how special Prixin is to you. I've got to go," she continued. "I've got something I need to do."  
  
"My pleasure, Naomi. You know, I love having you help me..."  
  
But Naomi was already gone.  


* * *

  
**Personal log: Cadet Naomi Wildman. Stardate: 54991**.**4**

> _I hope there are songs tonight. I love the Prixin songs. I've been trying to teach some of them to Icheb, but he says singing is unnecessary. I think it's because his singing is not exactly -- well, he doesn't sing as well as he does some other things._  
  
_Prixin will be very different this year. First of all, we're on a planet. I've never been on a planet for this long before. As a matter of fact I've only been off of Voyager a few times. Of course I sometimes I go out on the 'Flyer with Tom, but that doesn't really count. I once went on an away mission with Mom. She got special permission from the Captain to take me with her. It was a beautiful planet -- there was a beach and we collected stones and shells on the shore. I still have all of them in a jar beside my bed. Sometimes when I open the jar I can almost smell the sea air and salt water. I think I'll give one of the shells to Icheb for Prixin. I understand about not getting married so quickly, I really do. But he's my special one, I know it. And I know he knows it too._  
  
_ Pause recording._

After she paused the computer, Naomi clambered onto her bed. She reached for the glass container she had described, searched through the shells and stones it held until she found the one she sought, fished it out, and brushed it on the bedcovers. Its muted pastel hues were enhanced by her gentle buffing. She studied it for a moment as it sat in the palm of her hand. Then she placed it carefully on her bedside table and returned to her desk.  
  
_ Resume recording:_

> _And of course this year we will have a guest for Prixin. A representative from the Grevel-Ash. Her name is Falon Col. I think she's a teacher, but I'm not sure. I wonder what she teaches? I wonder what she'll think of us?_  
  
_I wonder if this will be the last Prixin we celebrate together. Everyone seems to think we'll get to Earth soon. Maybe we could celebrate it anyhow -- even after we get back. It could be like a yearly reunion -- we could all see each other and catch up and stuff. I want to get to Earth, I mean home, I really do. I can't wait to meet my Dad, and my cousins and my grandparents. I'll get to really go to Star Fleet Academy. But it's funny, because I'm sort of nervous about it, too. I haven't even told this to Mom. Or to Icheb. But I think of Voyager as my home. And I'm going to miss it very much when our trip is over._  
  
_ It was nice of Neelix to let me set up the candles. I know the Prixin traditions mean so much to him. He told me last year that the second and third days -- the Days of Remembrance -- are the hardest for him. I think they're hard on the captain, too. I watched her last year when she lit the red candle, the Memory candle. I thought about some of the people that Mom has told me about who have died. I don't remember many of them -- but I do remember Ensign Kaplan. She used to read to me sometimes. And I still miss Seven. I guess those days of Memory are difficult for everyone. Maybe I'll mention that during the third day recitations._  
  
_ End personal log._

Naomi deactivated the computer and leaned back in her chair. She had helped Neelix, finished her latest assignment from the Doctor, completed her log entry, and made her bed. A thoroughly satisfactory morning.  
  
_And Mom will be happy too. _ She grinned at the thought.  
  
The New Hope sun shone brightly through the portal over her bed, a long stream of light casting prismatic reflections onto her desk. She still had to make something for tonight's grab bag, but what? She gazed outside. She could see various members of _Voyager's_ crew going about their business. Some carried pieces of equipment to and fro. Others had their hands full of produce -- _Neelix will be pleased with the harvest_, she thought. She spotted Icheb chatting with Vorik, and the day got even brighter.  
  
"I'm going out there," she said out loud. "It's too nice a day to just sit inside. And besides," she thought to herself, "maybe the sunshine will inspire me. I bet I'll think of something out there."  


* * *

  
**Personal Record of Professor Falon Col:**

> _I record this from the alien ship known as "Voyager," in the private cabin they have assigned to me. Their Chief Medical Officer assures me that there are no finer quarters available. I deem them acceptable but lacking in the amenities that are the hallmark of Grevel-Ash hospitality. There is no style that I can discern; everything appears to be functional, but nothing more. The furniture has been placed without regard for the aura of the space. There is not even an attempt to use color to create an atmosphere. And worst of all, there is no ambient music unless expressly ordered, although, after reviewing the selections available on their databank, that may be wise after all. I encountered something called "Bagpipes" that sounded like animals being tortured. Fortunately, I located a category entitled "Renaissance/Chanson" that was reminiscent of the Trollan Era of court music at home.  
  
Home. It is a full three months before this tour of duty will be over and I can be home again. When the Dean informed me that I had been selected again for this assignment, I could have wept. The Treaty Planet is isolated and primitive, and the only way to get here is by military transport. I fully understand our need to maintain our place in the rotation of guardianship, but why an academic ecologist such as myself must remain on the planet during our watch is incomprehensible to me. I think we do it only because the Minenne do it, and who knows why the Minenne do anything? Thankfully, during this rotation, the Senate wants more than ecological reports; they want updates on the progress this _Voyager_ is making in its repairs, and they want me to monitor their exploitation of the planet's resources to assure that they do not violate their agreement. To that end, they petitioned _Voyager's_ captain to allow me to live on the ship instead of that miserably primitive cabin in the woods I was forced to live in last time.  
  
_Voyager's_ captain is named Kathryn Janeway. She and her senior staff were present to greet me when I arrived, showing that they have at least a rudimentary understanding of protocol and courtesy. They look remarkably like we Grevel-Ash, except that they are hirsute, more so even than the Gunrath'u, although at least the Gunrath'u have a better sense of color. The colors of hair seem to be limited to variations on brown, black or yellow. But so much of it, and worn in so many variations! The captain's hangs to her shoulders, with no ornamentation or visible dressing. And it sheds. I saw a stray hair on her shoulder. The men do not seem to keep theirs as long, but on most of them it seems to be quite thick. The exception was the civilian, the one called Neelix. He had hair on his face, hair that stuck outwards, and hair that dripped down his back.  
  
It was all quite disgusting, but I congratulate myself that I kept my reactions hidden. I had a few bad moments wondering how I would be able to respond to the guest spouse they offered when Captain Janeway said that ordinarily, that shaggy Neelix would be my liaison. For a moment I could not breathe. Then she said that unfortunately, he was going to be busy the next few days, and would I mind if her Chief Medical Officer served as my liaison officer?  
  
I almost collapsed in relief; he had less hair than anyone else in the room. He also, I noticed, had less odor. The others did not smell unpleasant, but they did each have a distinctive scent. The physician had none.  
  
Nor did he have a name. It took a few moments for me to understand that this ship's Chief Medical Officer is a hologram and yet is treated as a member of the crew. Obviously, their holography technology is far beyond our own. He is interactive, fully mobile, and apparently sentient. Captain Janeway apparently holds him in high regard. I could tell she meant no insult in offering me an artificial life form as a guest spouse.  
  
'How should I address you?' I asked him.  
  
'Doctor' will suffice,' he told me. I have to admit, I liked his voice. It resonated more vibrantly than that of most Grevel-Ash males, even my beloved Crolis.  
  
Captain Janeway said, 'I'm afraid you've arrived at a rather busy time for us. Besides working on repairing the ship, we're about to begin a holiday celebration. You are more than welcome to join us if you wish.'  
  
'Oh? What is the holiday?'  
  
'Prixin,' Neelix told me eagerly. 'It's an eight day celebration of family.'  
  
'Eight days?' I asked, thinking that I had found the explanation for the slowness in repairs. These people set festivals above work. They are either very devout or very hedonistic.  
  
'It's a Talaxian holiday,' Neelix continued. 'Perhaps you've heard of it.'  
  
'I'm afraid not.' Honestly. The Federation that was _Voyager's_ home was closer to Grevel-Ash than Talaxia, and I'd never heard of it. Why would he think I had heard of his holiday? 'We have no eight day holidays in my culture.'_  
  
_Commander Chakotay seemed to understand my point. 'We have nightly ceremonies, but work continues during the day as usual.'_  
  
_ 'Although the holiday spirit does seem to affect everyone,' Captain Janeway added with a smile. 'Unfortunately, it also forces us to be very efficient when we are at work. With your permission, the Doctor will escort you to your quarters. After you've had a chance to settle in, he'll give you a tour of the ship.'_  
  
_ And so, here I am. The Doctor left me to unpack and freshen up before returning for my tour. He has also offered to escort me to this evening's opening Prixin ceremony. I believe I shall go. Fortunately, I packed my new dress feather, the one that's deep blue, in case there was a formal occasion on the military transport._  
  
_ I am somewhat confused, though, as I can find no personal articles for the guest spouse in these quarters. Perhaps a hologram requires none._

* * *

  
  
Joe Carey leaned back in his chair and nodded twice before glancing at Vorik. "Well?"  
  
Vorik raised an eyebrow. "You were correct, Lieutenant. It seems by modifying _Voyager's_ shields to emit a neutrino bubble that is supported by the shielding of the Zornon..."  
  
"Vorik, I know all that. Look around. We did it." Joe stood and made a sweeping gesture with his hand to indicate the frozen holoimage of the bridge. "We have a working slipstream."  
  
"I must remind you, Lieutenant, that there are still significant problems."  
  
Joe knew. After six adjustments, the simulated ship still tumbled out of the slipstream after five minutes. "Tell me...wait," he raised a hand, "I don't mean literally. The structural integrity fails, and to get it to work requires a lot of energy."  
  
"I have calculated that the slipstream and all the support components would effectively drain _Voyager_ of all her power reserves after seven point four two minutes."  
  
Joe grimaced at that figure, but countered with another number. "We did travel fifteen hundred light years. We could do a series of small steps. Even if we only traveled one thousand light years at a time, we would still be home within the year."  
  
"That is one possibility. There is also the matter of the _benamite_. Will the amounts we have been authorized to take from New Hope be sufficient for our needs?"  
  
"As long as we don't take any unnecessary side trips, we'll have enough ore to get us home," Joe replied.  
  
"The process of converting _kolander_ to _benamite_ takes several weeks."  
  
"Vorik, you're just stating the obvious. I know this." Joe smiled. Converting the ore to _benamite_ would be easier than receiving permission to mine for it in the first place had been. The politics involved in getting permission from the four governments had been complicated. Then the colonel the Minenne military had sent to observe _Voyager's_ progress had apparently not been happy that B'Elanna was _indisposed_. Joe smiled. They now had the ore. That's what counted.  
  
Vorik shook his head. "I have noticed humans have a tendency to gloss over problems and concentrate on what works. This is what got us in trouble last time we attempted to use the slipstream technology."  
  
Joe picked up the PADD he'd been entering the data in. "This time we aren't in a hurry. And we'll be traveling at a slower velocity. Fifteen trips and we're home. Think about it." He'd see Annie soon, and his kids. Would they even know who he was? He tapped his combadge. "Carey to Lieutenant Torres. It worked."

  
  
**Lieutenant Joe Carey's personal log Stardate 54992.3.**

> _After meeting with Lieutenant Torres, I went back to working on Voyager's hull. External repairs have progressed faster than expected. The captain has asked for a test of space-worthiness before we actually try to leave New Hope. The Vordai have finally agreed to our request to use their space dock. Fortunately, the Vordai representative who relayed the message to us only appeared on our viewscreen. The restrictions on personnel who can work in the space dock are pretty extensive, and Lieutenant Torres was furious._  
  
_I've spent my free time going over the data from the ersatz Dauntless and our one failed attempt with the modified slipstream. I come away wishing the transwarp coil hadn't been fried. It's now just a solid puddle of metals. We could stumble across another working coil, or take the 15 years to get home. It beats 75, but it is still too long. I could be a grandfather by then._  
  
_ The slipstream technology is problematic, with an unpleasant history...But, I'm to make a presentation to the Captain after the Prixin festivities. I need to prove to her that it is safe, worthwhile, and feasible._  
  
_ Maybe I need to prove it to me too._  
  
_ End log._

Joe leaned back in his chair and studied the PADD. "So, what if we increase the amplitude..." His voice faded with frustration at the results. "I have eight days to get this to work..." His combadge chirped.  
  
"Carey here."  
  
_"I'm sorry to disturb you,"_ Neelix said. _"But I was hoping you were planning to come to the Prixin opening ceremonies."_  
  
"I'll be there Neelix, don't worry. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

  
  
_Voyager's_ mess hall was filled almost to overflowing. Only members of the skeleton duty crew were missing, and the ship-wide communications system was open so that they, too, could feel part of the Prixin opening ceremonies.  
  
The small table holding the unlit candelabra had been moved to the center of the room, and a box of long wooden matches had been placed beside it.  
  
Neelix had set up the buffet in front of the mess-hall windows. The multi-hued rays of the New Hope sunset provided a colorful backdrop to the display of culinary delights. He hovered proudly and rather possessively in front of the table, rearranging a platter here, moving a tray there, and trying with a surprising degree of success to prevent people from sampling anything before it was time.  
  
"Neelix, you have outdone yourself this year." He turned quickly to greet the captain, who was standing in front of a plate of trove bars at the far end of the buffet. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back, as if she was trying to resist taking one.  
  
"They turned out very well this year, Captain," he said, following her gaze. "I used chocolate to give them a richer taste."  
  
"So I see. They look delicious." She grinned at him. "Don't worry Neelix, I wouldn't dare take one now. I promise I'll wait until dessert."  
  
She glanced up and out the window at the rapidly setting sun.  
  
"It's time," Janeway said, and Chakotay, who had come up to join them, nodded in agreement.  
  
Neelix picked up a small triangle, made of the same alloy as the candelabra, and handed it to the captain along with its matching beater. She turned, and along with Chakotay and Neelix, made her way through the crowded mess hall to the table in the center. Janeway stood quietly for a moment, surveying the room.  
  
She smiled as she watched her crew, _No,_ she thought, _her family, together, comfortable, and at home with one another, sharing in the anticipation of tonight's celebration_.  
  
She raised the triangle and struck it lightly three times. The pure, penetrating sparkle of sound carried across the room. The response was immediate. The crowd turned towards her, hushed and expectant.  
  
She smiled at them and began the convocation.  
  
"Welcome, all of you. Family and friends," she began, acknowledging Falon Col with a slight nod.  
  
"We, _Voyager's_ family of the stars, are gathered here tonight to begin the festival of Prixin. We have traveled many light years since our last celebration, and we have many more to travel before we reach our goal. Tonight, and in the nights to come, we will remember those who are no longer with us; we will honor our families and our friends who are with us in person and in spirit; and we will celebrate our future and the future of our children."  
  
Janeway paused, turned, and picked up the box of matches. She removed one of them and struck it carefully. It spluttered for a moment before it burst into flame. She held it over her cupped palm, protecting the flame almost tenderly, and began the traditional Prixin recitation:  


"We light the candles of Prixin with joy and with sorrow.  
With laughter and with tears.  
We light the candles of Prixin with trust in tomorrow.  
With hope and with fears.  
We light the candles of Prixin with pain and with pleasure  
With faith and with pride  
We light the candles of Prixin. Together. We treasure  
The light they provide."

  
Janeway touched the burning match to the wick of the thick white center candle. It caught immediately, blazing momentarily upwards and then settling back down to a steady flame. She blew out the match and waited until it cooled before putting it down on the table.  
  
"We are celebrating our seventh Prixin together," Janeway continued. "And over the years, as you know, we have developed a few of our very own first night traditions."  
  
There were a few titters of anticipatory laughter from the back of the crowd and a couple of suspicious coughs from one of the far corners of the room. Janeway couldn't quite suppress her own grin.  
  
"Each year," she addressed Falon Col, who was standing beside the EMH, wearing a very large feather and looking rather disapproving "we begin our festivities with a song. And this year, I have been given the privilege of choosing the song leader. Our own EMH, who is an accomplished musician, has often led us in this part of our program."  
  
The Doctor, who had puffed up in pride at the mention of his name, looked as if he would burst.  
  
"But this year, I thought we'd give someone else a chance." Janeway continued quickly, before the Doctor could interrupt.  
  
"Commander Chakotay?" Janeway turned around to look for her first officer. "I think it's your turn, don't you?"  
  
The crew erupted in laughter. Everyone knew the captain had been trying to get the commander to sing during talent night for years. She had often been heard to say that if she could dance as a dying bird, the least he could do was warble. He had been able to avoid all her ploys so far, but she'd gotten him tonight, and he knew it.  
  
Chakotay made his way through the crowd and came to stand beside the captain. His expression was pained, but stoic. He held up his hands in submission and glanced quickly down at Kathryn Janeway who was making no effort to hide her glee.  
  
"All right, all right," he said as the laughter subsided. "Here's what we'll do. You're divided into three sections. I'll start -- section one comes in after the first line, section two, after the second, section three after the third. You all know this one. Are you ready?"  
  
He didn't give them any time to respond but began immediately:  
  
"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream...."

* * *

  
  
**Personal Log, Neelix, Delta Quadrant Ambassador. Stardate 54995.1**

> _Whew! I'm exhausted. This log won't be a long one. But the first night of Prixin was a great success, even if I do say so myself. Mind you, the Captain told me at least three times how pleased she was, and even Commander Tuvok complimented me on my Vulcan Mocha._  
  
_Commander Chakotay was a good sport tonight. He got everyone into the mood right away with his first song. By the third one, something I believe he called "When Irish Eyes are Smiling," everyone was singing along with him._  
  
_ The grab bag gifts were lovely this year. I think almost everyone used something from New Hope as part of their gift. Naomi wove a small basket from the lestil grasses that grow on the slopes of the hills just outside our compound and filled it with flowers. Marla Gilmore got it. Harry Kim carved a whistle from plent wood. B'Elanna drew that one. She said it was a perfect gift; she's going to use it to wake Tom when it's his turn to do three a.m. feedings. The captain painted a small picture of the river bank. I got that one. I'm going to hang it in a very special place in my quarters._  
  
_ I think everyone enjoyed my buffet tonight. I must thank Sarexa for all her help. I'll have to think of something special for her._  
  
_ I'd better go now. I've got to get up very early. Tomorrow night's dinner is waiting to be prepared. I will admit (in this log, only) that the formal dinners are more difficult for me, but I like the challenge. And I do like the way the mess hall looks in the candlelight._
> 
> _"Neelix out."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Falon Col -- Penny  
Naomi & Neelix -- CyberMum  
Joe Carey -- fmlyhntr  
Convocation -- CyberMum


	3. Day 2: First Day of Remembrance

**Prixin: Second Day - Day of Remembrance 1 - Stardate 54994**  
  
  
**Sarexa's Prixin Log--Day Two**  
  
"Uh <cough> computer, begin recording: 

> _I've never kept a log before. I had a diary when I was small but it was a silly thing, keeping track of the clothes I wore and which of the young men sprouted whiskers first. But Neelix says that we surely will be on Earth for our next Prixin or the one after that, and I want to remember these days forever._  
  
_ We've begun Prixin; we just celebrated the second day, the 'Day of Remembrance.' On this ship, Prixin is an annual celebration. Neelix introduced it to the crew years ago and they have adopted as their own ritual, honoring their families here and in their Alpha Quadrant. It is something they all look forward too.  
  
It has been a long time since I celebrated the season. After all, Prixin is about family, and what family do I have left? My parents were killed in the war with the Haakonians, and my brother and sister were taken by the Borg at the same time I was. I pray that they are dead._

"Computer, pause._ "_  
  
Sarexa stared at nothing, remembering the last Prixin she had celebrated. The longer she was an individual, the more her memories returned. At first they had been little more than flashes or brief sensory perceptions, but that last Prixin was suddenly clear in her mind.  
  
They had been at her grandparents' home, a large rambling place built to hold a large family. She was twelve and was permitted to help with the meal even though she hadn't reached the Age of Maturity. She'd been helping her mother with the meals for years. The game roasted on a spit and filled the kitchen with a rich, savory aroma; it was her job to keep it basted and moist. Her mother peeled and spiced the tubers while her Aunt Lexali prepared the _moolt_ sauce for the compote. Grandmother put the finishing touches on the trove bars, reciting her secret recipe aloud so Sarexa could learn it. The women laughed and spoke easily, telling stories on themselves and their husbands as if Sarexa were one of them, and she had never felt so grown up.  
  
The men had trooped in from the yard. Had it been cold? She couldn't quite remember that, but she did remember that her brother Norixital had tried to sneak one of the trove bars off the cooling rack and Grandmother had slapped his hand. Even so, he had taken the bar. He had just reached manhood but still had the charming smile of a little boy and Grandmother could deny him nothing. Even as he chewed, he had pressed a kiss to Sarexa's forehead. "Look at you, all grown up," he had said. "And getting prettier every day."  
  
But that was long ago, and what meager beauty she once possessed had been taken by the Borg, along with her family. Voyager's Doctor had worked miracles with her appearance, but when she looked in the mirror, she still saw the scars.  
  
"Resume recording. <ahem>"

> _Neelix has been in his element for days as we prepared all the traditional foods. Actually, 'traditional' means something a little different on this ship than at home. Besides the fruit compote (and the Captain has already asked me to make sure it doesn't get quite so fermented this year), dusky tubers and trove bars, we have also prepared a vat of plomeek soup, two pans of hasperat, five dozen Bolian wheat cookies and six apple pies. Samantha and Naomi Wildman have promised to bring a Ktarian pudding and Lt. Paris volunteered to bring something called 'bloodwine confit,' which he swears is a Klingon side dish at festive occasions. I'd feel better about it if Lt. Torres had been the one who offered it."_

"Pause recording."  
  
Could Valexa still be alive? Her baby sister would only be twelve years old. Sarexa wondered if she was possibly in a maturation chamber. Valexa had been so bright, so full of energy, surely, she thought, she must still be alive...unless...Unless her cube has been destroyed, or the assimilation process failed, or the virus destroyed her, or the Queen sent her on a hopeless task.  
  
There was no way to know. And somehow, it was more comforting to think of her as alive, even if she were a drone. That way she could still hope for Valexa's liberation.  
  
"Record again."

> _Tonight was the Recitation. I don't know how they have done it before, but they tell me this year was different. When we entered the holodeck, it looked like one of the more expensive resorts on Talax, the kind that were always in the newsvids. All the tables and chairs had been pushed aside, leaving a large open space. A small wooden table with the Prixin candelabra stood alone in the center. The anchor Family candle was still glowing and only slightly smaller than it was the day before._  
  
_ Just about everyone arrived on time, but Neelix wouldn't begin until Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay arrived. 'We have to wait,' he whispered to me. 'We need the Captain here.'  
  
The two of them arrived only a few minutes after the appointed time. I don't know Captain Janeway well yet, but I thought she looked tense. Well, the Recitation can be difficult for people; I know I was fairly keyed up about it._  
  
_As soon as he saw them, Neelix called out above the buzz of conversation. 'All right, everyone. The Captain has arrived. We can begin now. I want everyone to make a big circle.'_  
  
_ A lot of eyes rolled at that, looking from one to another in surprise, but no one protested. We collected in what was more or less a circle; probably more of a wavy oval because of the shape of the room. If we had been a circle, I realized that the Captain, Tom and B'Elanna, the Commander and I would have been the compass points: I at south, the Captain at east, Tom and B'Elanna opposite me at the north point, and Chakotay at due west._  
  
_ Then Lt. Ayala stepped to the center and waited for quiet. This year, Neelix asked him to act as the Honorary Elder; until recently, he thought his entire family was dead, but he found out a few months ago that his son is alive after all. That is worth celebrating, indeed._  
  
_ He's usually nervous when he has to speak in public, so I was surprised that he seemed so comfortable in the role of Elder. When the room was still, he began the invocation: 'In the arms of family, we stand together to honor those who have departed since we last gathered here.' Then he bent, striking an old-fashioned wooden match, and lit the red candle of Remembrance.  
  
That was when I realized that he wasn't holding a PADD. Had he memorized the names of the honored dead? We all gave our lists to Neelix last week so he could collate them -- each name is to be read only once. This was when the Elder should have begun the recitation of the names of those we had lost in the past year.  
  
But the Lieutenant suddenly looked tense. His shoulders tightened and his jaw got that clenched looked it usually does when he's charged with speaking to a group. 'We're going to do something different,' he said. 'Sarexa tells us that in her province, the Elder didn't read a list of names.'  
  
I hadn't talked to him at all, so this surprised me; but I had discussed this with Neelix. He is a sweet man._  
  
_ The Lieutenant reached down and plucked the burning red taper from its place. 'We're going to pass this candle around. As you hold it, it's your turn to speak the name of someone to honor. If you have no one to name, or if your honoree has already been named, pass it on.'  
  
People shifted as they stood, some dismayed, some simply surprised. I have to admit, I was close to tears. This was like the ceremonies I remembered from my childhood, the ceremonies I had watched when I was too young to participate. My hand shook a little as I accepted the burning candle._  
  
_There was so much I wanted to say, so many names I could have said. But we are each allowed only one, and the one name in my heart leapt to my lips. 'I remember Norixital, my brother, who died fighting the Borg.'_  
  
I_ held the candle for a moment, watching the tiny flame dance in the air. The fire was almost living, and I fancied that my brother breathed on it and caused it to grow for the briefest of moments. Then I passed the candle to Neelix, who passed it silently to the person next to him_.  
  
_It went on, hand to hand, until it reached Tuvok. 'I remember Ken Dalby,' he said._  
  
_That surprised me, and not only me. Everyone knew Tuvok's father had died recently, and expected to hear that name. Neelix says that Tuvok is a very private person; perhaps he was unwilling to share that much with us. I don't think it mattered. All around the circle, people nodded their approval, some with moist eyes. Commander Chakotay had the oddest expression on his face, as if he was confused and grateful in equal parts. There is still much I have to learn about Humans and Vulcans._  
  
_ As the candle passed, more names were spoken. It was Billy Telfer, I think, who remembered Mortimer Harren; Trish Gallagher spoke the name of George Redman; Luke Ashmore, had tears running down his cheeks but his voice didn't waver as he recalled the name of his wife, Beth. Jim Morrow recalled his grandmother, and Lora Jenkins an uncle. Then the candle came to B'Elanna. She shifted the baby to one arm to receive it, and then she said quietly, 'Miral.'_  
  
_ For a moment I thought she meant the baby and I was confused, but then I remembered that she had named her daughter after her mother. I hadn't known her mother was dead._  
  
_ Tom was next, and holding his wife's gaze, he said, 'Ramon Hernandez.' This surprised me, too, because I didn't think he remembered Mr. Hernandez -- no, Commander Hernandez -- at all. Then B'Elanna smiled at him, and I realized he had spoken the name for her, because she had two to remember._  
  
_ The candle moved on, through Harry Kim's hands and on to others, pausing for the names Dorrance and Kiran until it reached Captain Janeway. She held it for two, maybe three seconds before speaking. 'I honor the memory of Korok,' she said, "who watches us from Sto-Vo-Kor.'_  
  
_ I swallowed hard._  
  
_ The candle moved on its way, and more names were recited. Baytart. Mitchell. Then the candle came to the Doctor's hands. He looked at it as if questioning his right to participate, then said, 'Lynella.' He turned quickly to hand the candle to our guest, Professor Col, and I expected her to pass it on to the next person. But she held it and looked around the circle, her chin held high._  
  
_ For an instant I thought she was going to tell us that we were all fools, but then she said, 'Floran,' and passed the candle on. I had no idea who Floran was or what he or she had been to the envoy, but I raised a quick prayer as the candle moved from person to person._  
  
_ It quickly reached Commander Chakotay. He had the appearance of someone who would remain silent, but then he looked at the Captain and paused. Their eyes locked for two heartbeats and then he said, 'Emanni,' and the Captain smiled as he passed the candle on._  
  
_ There were only a few people between him and me, and the candle finished its circuit with no more names spoken. Lt. Ayala took it from me and returned it to its place. The two candles, white and red, burned together in a silence that broken only by the rustle of clothing._

Sarexa sighed and wiped a stray tear from one eye.

> _It was a lovely ceremony, and I think everyone was affected by it. If the next six nights go as well, it will be the best Prixin I can remember. Tomorrow night should be interesting, but to tell the truth, I'm really looking forward to the Days of Honoring. Neelix tells me that the Fourth Night party is always a good way to tell which couples are getting together and which are about to break up. It was that way at home, I think. I remember my Aunt saying that all you have to do is watch how people stand during the ceremony; couples that are beginning or strong stand close, even touching, while couples on the path to separation stand apart and aloof. Neelix predicted that Lt. Kim and Ensign Gilmore would stand together -- as if that were a secret. Anyone with sight can tell that they are in love, and why not? This crew has been together a long time, and it seems natural that people would pair off. Actually, considering how long they've been away from home, I'm a little surprised there aren't more married couples.  
_
> 
> _ Neelix also told me that I should keep my eyes on Jenny Delaney and Hugh Murphy -- they're going to separate soon, he said. I don't understand that. They seem very affectionate together. And he said to watch Angelo Tessoni and Tal Celes, because they are getting serious, but I don't know why he says that. It's true, they spend a lot of time together, but they almost never touch, and sometimes Celes cannot even look Angelo in the eye._  
  
_ So I asked him about Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, and he looked shocked. He never likes it when I ask about them. If I didn't know better, I might think he had a secret affection for her. He says that it's unthinkable, that the Captain would never get involved with a fellow officer; but it's as plain on the whiskers on his face that those two belong together._  
  
_ There are things about Humans I will never understand. I think I prefer the Talaxian way. If you like someone, you show it. If you love someone, you tell them. It makes life much simpler._

"Pause recording." Was she right about that? Neelix was very affectionate with her, but in a very brotherly way. He made no attempt to hide his friendship for her, but was it possible he had picked up Human habits? And what about her? She loved Neelix like a father, or a brother. That was all. Wasn't it? If there were other Talaxians around, perhaps it would be easier to tell. Being the only two on the ship -- the only two in thousands of light years -- it was harder to decide. She didn't want to think she was in love with Neelix just because he was close at hand, but even after everything that had happened, she was still reluctant to ask him how he really felt about her.  
  
One thing about the Collective -- she had never had to waste time trying to analyze her feelings. It was hard to be an individual again. It was hard to find a way to belong without being a single mind. And it was hard to know how to define shades of emotions. She shook her head.  
  
"Resume recording." 

> _I may not know what happened to my blood relatives, but Neelix is my family now, and for that I am grateful. I need to close this and return to the mess hall. We still have to finish the casseroles for tomorrow and begin the decorating. There's so much to do!  
  
_

"End recording."

* * *

  
  
"That was a nice piece of music you played with Sue Nicoletti tonight," Noah said, as a subdued crew filed into the corridors at the close of the first Day of Remembrance observance. "It sounded familiar. What was it?"  
  
"It was a transcription of an early 20th century choral piece. 'In Paradisium' from the Fauré Requiem."  
  
"It was lovely, Harry," Marla agreed, giving his arm a little squeeze.  
  
"Thanks. I've always loved the melody, and I thought it would sound even more mellow on the clarinet. Sue and I enjoyed putting it together."  
  
"You did it yourselves?" Tal Celes asked.  
  
"Yes, we did."  
  
"It fit with the Recitation perfectly," Tabor said. Other members of the crew who were nearby agreed, complimenting Harry for his part in the musical presentation, before everyone began to drift off to their quarters. Harry wasn't surprised. The second night of Prixin was always the most solemn of all, especially when the names of those lost during the year were read. He thought changing the ceremony to having the crew offer the names up themselves, instead of having the Elder read them, was especially moving.  
  
He accompanied Marla down the corridor. He wasn't paying much attention to those around him, since he was concentrating on how beautiful his partner's hair was. It sparkled even in the dim lighting of their surroundings. When he reached Marla's quarters, he realized that the only ones still with them were the other four Equinox survivors. Contrary to his expectations, they did not move onward when Harry and Marla stopped in front of her door. For a few awkward seconds, everyone looked around at everyone else without saying anything, while Harry devoutly wished they'd leave so that he and Marla could step inside by themselves. Finally, Noah Lessing said, "Harry, would you like to come in with us?"  
  
Nonplussed that Noah would think Harry would be the one to leave, Harry asked, "Are you having a nightcap or something?"  
  
The others all chuckled softly. Jimmy Morrow finally explained, "We're going to hold our own Prixin Recitation tonight, Harry. We didn't understand what Prixin was all about last year. This year, we intend to make up for lost time."  
  
Harry looked at Marla. From her expression, she seemed to want him to stay. After nodding slightly, he followed the Equinox Five into Marla's quarters.  
  
A tiny red candle, much smaller than the one the Captain had lit at the main ceremony, sat on the table, awaiting the touch of a match to come alive.  
  
  
Personal log of Lieutenant Harry Kim -- Stardate 54995.3 

> _Prixin always gets to me, but tonight was special. Not just because Marla was with me (although that was part of it, I guess), but because I understood more tonight, from the ceremony after the ceremony, about what the Recitation can do for you. It provides a way to finally say good-bye, to deal with loss and to accept that while some are left behind, others go on._  
  
_ The survivors of the _Equinox_ had their own Recitation. Noah acted as elder and read all the names. It was more like the way we always handled things before, not the way we did it this year -- but that seemed right, somehow. All of the people whose names he read had died years ago -- most of them, right after the _Equinox_ was pulled into the Delta Quadrant, right around the time we were on _Voyager_. The _Equinox_ was such a small ship already. Losing half of its crew within days of coming here was an unbelievable loss in itself. And then they encountered those aliens who killed the rest, other than our Equinox Five who survived because Captain Ransom sent them here before he sacrificed himself._  
  
_ Listening to Noah reading the names tonight and listening while the five of them swapped stories about their lost comrades made me understand what the crew of the_ Equinox_ really went through, before and after they met up with us. I understand a little better why Marla keeps saying we should just 'live in the moment' and not worry about the future. Living in the present and trying to get through each day, one at a time, was the only way they made it through._  
  
_ I'm not saying I can ever truly forgive Ransom for all he did. When he convinced Marla and Noah to go along with stealing the shield we'd developed to protect_ Voyager_ and the _Equinox_ from those aliens, he almost sacrificed all of us for the handful of his crew that were left. Some of _Voyager's_ crew were killed because of him. But if Captain Janeway had ordered me to do things I considered unethical, I'm not sure I wouldn't have followed her orders, given the same set of circumstances. I'd like to think I'd have refused, but I honestly don't know if I would have._  
_  
So, I understand a lot better why Marla and Noah and the others remained loyal to Ransom. They still feel he was a wonderful commander until the Delta Quadrant stole his soul from him. Maybe they're right, but I'm glad I serve under Captain Janeway. Maybe she did a few things that weren't quite up to strict Prime Directive standards, but nothing we did compares to what happened on the_ Equinox_ under Ransom._  
_  
I understand another thing, though. We're all going to have to stand by Marla and the others when we get home, to make Starfleet realize what it was like being out here in the Delta Quadrant, so far away from home, with most of the alien races indifferent at best and hostile at worst towards us. The five from the_ Equinox_ did the best they could, following orders and maintaining discipline the only way they knew how in order to survive: through the chain of command. Certainly, they'll see that, and let them stay in Starfleet._  
_  
But if we can't, then I'll leave Starfleet and stay with Marla. After all the times I lost out on love, I'm not going to lose Marla now that I've finally found her. I won't let it happen. I love her too much.  
  
I hope it won't come to that, though. I'll do my best to see that it doesn't_.  
  
_End log._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarexa -- Penny  
Harry Kim-- Jamelia


	4. Day 3: Second Day of Remembrance

**Prixin: Third Day - Day of Remembrance 2 - Stardate 54497**  
  
  
B'Elanna sighed and slipped a little deeper into the water, relishing the warmth as well as the scent and silky feel of the bath oil. A larger bathroom with a built-in bathtub was one of the perks of the new quarters she and Tom had moved into shortly after they'd married, quarters that had formerly been one of the four "ambassador suites" on _Voyager_. She'd taken advantage of this bathtub often, especially as her pregnancy had progressed. She'd sorely missed it during the two weeks they'd lived in the hastily raised New Hope shelter. Even after Miral's birth, she found she still eagerly anticipated this relaxation after a long day.  
  
B'Elanna sighed contentedly again, and rubbed her belly. It was still slightly rounded, but she was quickly regaining her former shape. Every once in a while she felt an odd pang for the lost feel of her baby inside her, even if Miral's active nature had kept her awake nights toward the end. But she loved holding her daughter in her arms even more, so the tradeoff was definitely worth it.  
  
B'Elanna smiled, then glanced at the dataPADD resting on the small table next to the tub. She stretched out an arm and pressed the record symbol with one wet finger.  
  
**Personal Log, B'Elanna Torres reporting, Stardate 54498.1**

> _Today was my first full day back in Engineering. The Doctor thought it was too soon, but he agreed as long as I remain on light duty for another week. I need to participate in the repair work on Voyager, especially when there's still so much to be done, and I want to keep closer tabs on Joe's progress with the slipstream technology. With a little tinkering, I think it's going to work this time._  
  
_ Tom was all for me going back too, and not just because I threw all of Miral's stuffed animals at him yesterday. Maybe I was being a little cranky, but he didn't have to say so. While Voyager remains grounded, the captain told us to make our own schedules, to accommodate our responsibilities as new parents. That was nice of her, but I know Tom feels like I do. We both want to do our full part to get Voyager under way again. At the same time, we don't want to leave Miral with others while we're both working, not when she's so young. It will be soon enough to work out a more permanent schedule once Voyager is space-bound again. There are plenty of people who are eager to babysit: Naomi, Marla, Harry, Chakotay... the list is endless, so that won't be a problem. The Doctor has already insisted that he'll take Miral whenever Voyager faces any potential danger. Since Sickbay is the safest place on the ship, Tom and I readily agreed with him. But for now, one of us will always be with her._  
  
_ I really was glad to be back in Engineering today. It felt right to be there, but I missed Miral. It's the first time since she was born that I've spent more than a few minutes away from her. Even though I knew she was here with Tom, I couldn't keep my mind from returning to her every few minutes, wondering how she was doing. By the time I came back here for lunch I was aching to hold her again._  
  
_ Imagine me, not able to keep my concentration on my engines! In fact, today made me realize again how much my life has changed -- how much I've changed. For so long engineering was my only real passion. I lived and breathed it, and I couldn't imagine making enough space in my life for anything or anyone else. Then Tom came along and wormed his way into my life, and now we have Miral. I found out that my life -- my heart -- stretched easily to accommodate them. I still love engineering, but it's not the only important thing in my life. It's not even the most important thing anymore._  
  
_ That's what this week's Prixin celebration is about: family. Tonight is the second night of Remembrance. It will start with a communal dinner -- Neelix's traditional Talaxian game stew and tubers, which is actually not bad -- and then we'll share stories and memories of the deceased members of our families. Last night was the Recitation, when we passed around the lit candle and named those we've lost during the past year. When the candle was passed to me, I said my mother's name with a small ache in my heart._  
  
_ Last night was a somber occasion, but tonight we'll recall the good times. It will be a celebration of the lives and deeds of those who've been part of our lives, and part of our family. I have stories to share about Beth Ashmore and Mortimer Harren. I also have one about Ramon Hernandez. Even though he almost took Tom away from me, the sacrifice he made for Voyager in an effort to atone for his mistakes did restore his honor, to me, anyway._  
  
_ I have good memories of my mother too. For a long time, the bitterness and anger between us was so foremost in my mind that I forgot there were a lot of good moments too, like how she used to tuck me in bed when I was little and call me 'tIqoywI' -- her 'little heart' -- as she kissed me goodnight. And how she surprised me with a trip to Cavasi Ridge to see the double eclipse of Kessik's suns. How she held me after I nearly drowned in the Sea of Galan and told me she wouldn't let anything hurt me. How proud she was of me when I earned the top engineering scholarship in secondary school..._  
  
_ There are more. Maybe it's holding my own daughter that has made many of them come back to me. I don't know if I'll share any of them tonight. Tom thinks I should, but I've never been very comfortable sharing private things._  
  
_ Even though the datastream doesn't open for six more days, I already wrote Elizabeth a letter about Miral's birth. I'm sure she'll share the news with my father. I still don't know if I'll answer the letter he sent me last month, or what I'll say if I do, but next week he'll know he has a granddaughter._  
  
_ I wrote another letter too -- to my mother. It still sounds strange to say it out loud. Once I would have scoffed openly at the idea. Now I find it easier to believe in things that have to be taken on faith, like love, and the spiritual realm. I asked my uncle to read the letter at our family shrine in the Hall of Honor. Maybe my mother really will hear my words in StoVoKor._  
  
_ I wanted to tell her how I felt when I first held my daughter -- complete awe that I had produced something so miraculous, and a rush of love that welled up in me with such force that it hurt. The moment I looked at her, I knew I would protect her with my life and do whatever it took to make sure she grew up strong and happy. I wondered if my mother felt the same way the first time she held me, and I knew she had. The truth flashed in front of me at that moment._  
  
_ My mother loved me. That shouldn't be a revelation, but it took me this long to really understand. She wanted exactly the same things for me that I want for my daughter. Even when she made mistakes, when she pushed too hard, she was only doing what she thought was best for me. I know I'll do my best for my daughter too, even if she's angry, or rebellious, or ungrateful -- which, considering her genes, seems likely. I may not always do the right thing -- I'm sure I won't -- but it will always come from my love. I know that she, too, will understand some day._  
  
_ In my letter to my mother, I also thanked her for wanting so much for me, and for everything she tried to do for me. And for loving me. I never thanked her for that, not once. I wish I had. Now I know she was the one who gave me the strength and determination that has helped me survive, that has gotten me here, even if it was a rough road._  
  
_ I've had moments of satisfaction -- even joy -- in my life, but I haven't often been happy, not really. Not like I am now, with this deep, abiding contentment with my life, and this sense that I'm okay the way I am, Klingon and human, faults and all. I feel like I've finally made it to exactly where and who I should be. Who I think my mother would have wanted me to be._  
  
_ The Klingon tradition of naming a child after an ancestor is not just an honor, but in hopes that the child will inherit the qualities of the ancestor. I told my mother that's why I named my daughter Miral. I hope that my daughter will inherit my mother's strength and courage, and her ability to love so fiercely. Nothing would make me happier._  
  
_ I think mother will hear my words in StoVoKor. I really do. Then she'll know I did what she entreated me not long ago. I chose to live._  
  
_ End log._

Fifteen minutes later, B'Elanna stepped out of the bathroom wearing a soft, flowing dress in shades of amber, sienna and royal blue. It was casual and would afford her the ability to nurse Miral unobtrusively during the evening. The first thing she heard was the sound of the television. Then she recognized her husband's voice.  
  
Tom was on the couch, with his legs stretched out comfortably and his daughter nestled in his arms. He was singing to Miral, and for a moment B'Elanna thought the song was something about Neelix. Then she realized he was singing in unison with the television, to the cartoon about the cat with a bag of tricks, Felix.  
  
"...and your heart will go pitter pat, watching Felix, the wonderful cat."  
  
Miral waved one fisted hand in the air, her gaze fixed with fascination on her father. Neither noticed as B'Elanna picked up the remote and turned off the television.  
  
"Hey!" Tom protested. He grinned at Miral. "We were watching that, weren't we, Sweetie?"  
  
"It's time to leave," B'Elanna said. She reached down, straightened the aqua blanket around Miral, and brushed a finger over her daughter's downy cheek. Then she pecked her husband on the lips. "You can corrupt your daughter later."  
  
"Corrupt?" Tom frowned. "It's culture, not to mention history..."  
  
"Right," B'Elanna cut him off. She took Miral from Tom's arms. "Then you can give her a history lesson later."  
  
Miral's eyes, shaped like Tom's and, for now, the same blue color, followed her father's movements as he stood. "I just changed her," Tom said. "I'll get her bag."  
  
B'Elanna looked at Miral, who was still intently watching Tom. "He's already turning you into a daddy's girl, isn't he?" she accused her daughter.  
  
Miral gurgled in reply, and Tom grinned unabashedly as he picked up the bulky baby bag. B'Elanna reached out and straightened the collar of his blue shirt with one hand as he rejoined them. "You look nice," she said.  
  
"So do you," Tom said, his eyes warm as her perused her. "Beautiful in fact."  
  
B'Elanna smiled. "Thanks. Did you decide what you're going to say?" she asked as they walked toward the door.  
  
Tom nodded. "I have a couple of stories to share about Pablo."  
  
"Like how he cleaned you out that time at the monthly Navigation Department poker game?" B'Elanna asked, grinning.  
  
Tom grinned back. "He didn't clean me out...not exactly. But he did have a great poker face." His expression sobered as they stepped out of their quarters. "He really was a good guy."  
  
B'Elanna squeezed Tom's arm. Despite some animosity between them in the earliest days, Pablo had been Tom's second in Navigation, and the two had eventually become good friends. B'Elanna knew Tom would have named Pablo in the Recitation ceremony if she hadn't asked him to name Ramon Hernandez.  
  
Tom cleared his throat. "You ready too?"  
  
"Yes," B'Elanna replied. Before she could say more, Miral gurgled again and waved a hand, capturing her parents' attention. They'd reached the turbolift, and as they stepped in, Tom wrapped an arm around B'Elanna's waist and smiled over her shoulder at his daughter.  
  
"You're going to hear stories about some wonderful people tonight, Miral," Tom told her. "I know you won't remember them, but don't worry. When you're older, we'll share their stories with you. Even though they're gone now, they'll always be part of your family too."  
  
B'Elanna looked at Tom, and smiled. _Yes, they would._  
  
"Mess hall."  
  
The turbolift began to move at Tom's command, and B'Elanna decided that maybe she _would_ share a story about her mother tonight. No, make that definitely.

* * *

  
  
**Evening of Day 3 -- the Second Day of Remembrance.**  
  
Neelix looked around the crowded room, at the tables arranged in a circle. Dinner was nearly over, and he was pleased to see that there weren't many full platters left on the tables. As usual, the tuber hash had been a big hit, and this year, thanks to their presence on New Hope, they'd been able to include some fresh game on the menu. That last point in particular gave the meal a more 'authentic' feel, in his opinion. Altogether, this year's celebration felt more like the traditional Prixin he'd experienced growing up than any of the previous _Voyager_ renditions of the holiday.  
  
But he couldn't just sit here admiring his handiwork. There was a program to follow, after all. Unlike the previous night, the mood was quite a bit lighter, and many people were starting to look around the room in anticipation.  
  
Neelix rose to his feet and cleared his throat. "May I have your attention, please?" The buzz of conversation slowly died down. "It is time for the Storytelling." He turned to their visiting dignitary, Falon Col. "Every year, to continue our Remembrance of our dearly departed, it is customary for a number of people to relate a story about a deceased member of the family who was special to them. Someone who inspired you, encouraged you, or simply helped share your laughter and love."  
  
An expectant rustling swept around the room. Everyone knew that the official Storytellers had been chosen in advance, although the crew would also gather in informal groups later on to continue swapping stories through the night. Chakotay was usually a favorite, due to his skill in spinning a tale; many turned toward him now, fully expecting him to take the center of the room and begin.  
  
Instead, after catching Neelix's eye, it was Tuvok who strode forward.  
  
"The story I have to tell is one from my childhood," Tuvok began, and then turned slightly to his left and addressed one individual in particular. "And yes, Mr. Paris, before you ask, I was indeed a child at one time." He waited for the inevitable rejoinder, but Tom, grinning, refused to rise to the bait.  
  
"As I was saying, the events of this story took place when I was approximately three years old. An only child, I lived with my mother and father, T'Meni and Sunak, in a small house on the edge of the desert, within easy walking distance of the Temple of Anorak, where my father was one of the attendant priests. During my early years, my mother was the single most dominant force in my life. She was a strict disciplinarian. I remember many instances where she took me to task for my behavior, in particular, to quote her exact words, 'for exhibiting a most un-Vulcan-like stubbornness and tendency toward illogical behavior.'  
  
"My father Sunak was often not at home due to his duties at the Temple, but even when he was present, he was content to leave the running of the household and its details to my mother. I remember him best sitting quietly at the table in his study, poring over an ancient scroll, or else deep in meditation.  
  
"But I was not often in Sunak's study. The room I preferred most was my mother's work chamber, where T'Meni had many valuable and fascinating objects that she had collected over the years. One item in particular, her most prized possession, was an antique vase that had been passed down from mother to daughter for six generations; but it was rumored to be even older, possibly from the Pre-Reformation era. This vase had a strong attraction for me. The shape of the base, the striking colors, and the unusual design I had seen reproduced nowhere else drew me like a magnet. I longed to run my hand over its curves, to trace the intricate patterns. But this vase stood in the place of honor, high upon the mantel, and quite beyond my reach.  
  
"One day T'Meni received an invitation to attend the Bonding of her second cousin's grandson, a young man named Stonn. I do not recall why my father and I did not accompany her, but I do remember the sensation of freedom I felt when I saw T'Meni leave and knew she would not be returning for three whole days.  
  
"It was curious that I felt this way, as I would continue to follow my regular schedule of lessons, and Sunak had arranged a number of sessions at various friends' homes during the after school hours --"  
  
"Play dates," murmured Sam Wildman.  
  
"Yes, play dates," continued Tuvok. "Regardless, my daily routine was not much altered, despite my mother's absence. I did not have occasion to see my father very much except at mealtimes, and then afterward, when he put me to bed.  
  
"Early on the morning of the second day, I woke and slipped quietly downstairs. It was still dark outside, and I could detect no other stirrings in the house. I assumed Sunak was still asleep. I crept into T'Meni's work chamber and stood in front of the mantel, gazing up at the antique vase. I longed to touch it, and then I realized that now was the perfect opportunity. I dragged a chair over from the other side of the room, climbed upon it, and reached up. However, despite the chair, my stature was still insufficient. I took several large volumes off one of the shelves and balanced them upon the seat, then climbed up once more. Now, at last, I was able to reach the vase. Unfortunately, my balance was precarious, and no sooner had I gotten to the summit of the pile than I felt it give way beneath me. As I fell, I instinctively stuck out my hand to grab at something solid.  
  
"Seconds later, I picked myself up off the floor. I was stunned, not so much from the fall, as at the sight which greeted me. The vase lay beside me, broken into several pieces."  
  
"Oh, you poor thing," exclaimed Naomi. "Were you hurt? Did you cry?"  
  
"Vulcan children do not cry," Tuvok said reprovingly. "Infants do, of course, when they are hungry or in need of other care, but from a very young age, children are taught that such untoward displays of emotion are unseemly."  
  
"So you didn't cry," said Icheb, as if making sure.  
  
"No, I did not, although I certainly had the desire to do so. I knelt there for a moment, breathing deeply to regain my control, and then I carefully picked up the broken pieces. One of the sharp edges nicked my finger, and a drop of blood welled up. I stuck the finger in my mouth, and then with my other hand, lay the pieces out on the desk in the corner, attempting to see how I might fit the shards together once more.  
  
"The sound of footsteps in the hallway brought my activities to a sudden halt. Afraid of discovery, I swept the pile into an envelope and stuffed it into a pigeonhole of the desk.  
  
"Sunak entered the room just then. He noticed my guilty actions immediately, and it did not take long to discover the absence of the vase.  
  
" 'Tuvok, where is Mother's vase?' "  
  
"'I do not know, Father.'  
  
"We kept up this exchange until I swore quite emphatically that I had no knowledge of its whereabouts or what could possibly have happened to it. At that, Sunak sighed softly and said, 'As an ancient writer once stated, vehemence is no guarantee of the truth, my son.' He held out his hand. I gave him the envelope, not quite daring to meet his eyes. Sunak gently shook the pieces out into his hand. He held two of them together and then put them down with another sigh."  
  
"Did he punish you?" asked Icheb.  
  
"No, he did not, nor did he scold me," said Tuvok. "He simply chided me about the importance of telling the truth, and of owning up to one's actions."  
  
Harry held up one hand. "Wait a minute, I could be wrong, but I thought Vulcans _can't_ lie."  
  
"Maybe just when they're young, and eventually they grow out of it?" suggested B'Elanna.  
  
"You mean like emotions?" said Tom innocently.  
  
"We do not grow out of our emotions, " Tuvok answered. "Rather we grow _into_ them, we learn how to control them, as opposed to having them control us."  
  
"Getting back to the story..." urged Neelix, after exchanging glances with the captain.  
  
"Of course." Tuvok resumed. "The next day T'Meni returned from her trip. Almost immediately I was called into her chamber. I went with trepidation, knowing I would be called upon to face punishment for my wrongdoing. Instead, to my surprise, my mother greeted me quite pleasantly and made no mention of my deed, nor did she seem inclined to punish me. It was only as I was leaving that I spotted the vase, whole once more, returned to its place on the mantel."  
  
"What? How did that happen?" several people said at once.  
  
"I can only surmise that my father must have repaired it for me, without my mother's knowledge," Tuvok said.  
  
"That was very nice of him," said Naomi.  
  
"Indeed it was," Tuvok said. "And it reinforced the lesson I learned, that the truth is always preferable to a falsehood."  
  
"Because Vulcans are aesthetically displeased by falsehoods. It's distasteful to them," said Harry with a wink.  
  
Tuvok frowned. "No, not at all, Mr. Kim. It is to maintain the myth that Vulcans are incapable of telling lies."  
  
General laughter greeted this statement.  
  
Tom straightened up and said, "I didn't know Vulcans had a sense of humor. That's two new things I've learned this evening about Vulcans. Or is it about Tuvok in particular?"  
  
"Oh, I've been aware of Mr. Tuvok's wry sense of humor for many years," Janeway said.  
  
"Such as?" prompted Tom.  
  
"Let's see..." the captain considered and then smiled. "How about the time two junior officers were displaying rather, shall we say, 'unprofessional behavior' while on duty." Her gaze rested on her chief engineer and flight con officer for just an instant. "Tuvok came up with the perfect solution. It was unfortunate I wasn't able to take him up on his advice."  
  
"What was that?" Tom asked warily.  
  
"He asked, 'shall I have them flogged?'" the captain turned to her security officer. "You were joking, weren't you, Tuvok?"  
  
Chakotay interjected hastily, "Any more to the story?"  
  
Tuvok hesitated for just an instant, as if debating adding anything further. "No, it is now someone else's turn."  
  
As Tuvok returned to his seat amid general comments and compliments about his ability as a storyteller, Neelix said aloud, "That's a skill doubtless honed in your many years as a parent, Tuvok. Perhaps our new parents could take some lessons."  
  
"Perhaps we can," B'Elanna said with a smile, as she gently stroked her baby's cheek.  
  
Quietly, Neelix leaned over and whispered to Tuvok, "And may you soon be holding your own grandchild on your knee, telling her stories."

* * *

  
  
**Personal log, Commander Tuvok, Stardate 54999.3**

> _With the conclusion of tonight's events, the Days of Remembrance are now over. I am aware that some people were surprised by my choice of Ken Dalby for the Remembering, instead of my father. I believe I have 'rectified' this omission, if indeed it was one, by my actions tonight._  
  
_ Death is not a tragedy when the life that has been lived reaches its full measure of days and has been lived well besides. That was the case with Sunak. I shall forever treasure the memory of his gentle patience, and of the many things that he taught me throughout my childhood, and beyond._  
  
_ However, Ken Dalby was a young man, with so many years still ahead of him, even with the brief, by Vulcan standards, lifespan of Humans. Unfortunately, circumstances dictated otherwise. As it may for all of us, out here in the Delta Quadrant. Yet even if Voyager had not been carried 70,000 light years away, there is no guarantee that others might not have met untimely deaths as well._  
  
_ Mr. Dalby, despite starting his tenure aboard Voyager as the 'Angry Maquis,' had a certain quality of loyalty and commitment. He never hesitated to offer a hand in friendship, not even to someone he had previously -- and with good reason, from his perspective -- disliked. I was aware that at the beginning of our journey, Mr. Dalby's feelings toward me for what I represented -- Starfleet rules and regulations -- were compounded by the knowledge that I had been a spy. Many, if not most of the Maquis, shared those sentiments, once the truth was revealed. I do not assign blame for this. I would have betrayed them to the Federation if the Caretaker had not intervened. To Mr. Dalby's credit, however, he was eventually able to put aside his feelings and serve with distinction._  
  
_ I will admit that he tried my patience in so many ways. There were times I doubted he would ever fit the Starfleet mold, even after completing my remedial training course. But after all these years on Voyager, Mr. Dalby was finally starting to come into his own. He had the makings of a good security officer. I am confident tha,t given time, he would have become an exemplary one._  
  
_ I do not feel guilt that Mr. Dalby is dead. Guilt is a human emotion to which I am fortunately immune. However, I do admit to a certain regret that things could not have been otherwise._  
  
_ I have on more than one occasion spoken to the captain about the illogic of bearing more than one's share of responsibility, of taking on blame for things that have occurred during our journey. That no one individual, Human or Vulcan, can control all events. And yet...I understand why there are times she feels this way._  
  
_ And so I choose to remember the finer things about Mr. Dalby's life on these days of Prixin. To acknowledge the loss, but at the same time, not to dwell on his death to the exclusion of his life. My people have a ritual lament -- or perhaps it can be interpreted as a message of comfort -- when informed of a death in the family. "I grieve with thee." On these nights of Prixin, the grief and the memory are truly communal._  
  
_ After I completed my story this evening, Mr. Neelix said he hopes I will soon see my granddaughter. I am a Vulcan, however, and I have been taught since birth to control my emotions. As a result, there is no guilt, no fear-but neither do I have the capacity for hope. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna Torres -- Juli17  
Tuvok -- Rocky


	5. Day 4: First Day of Honoring

  
**Prixin, Fourth Day - Day of Honoring 1 - Stardate****55000**  
  
Chakotay took a quick glance in the mirror and decided he was ready. He was dressed simply, in trousers and a shirt that would move easily and hold up to the vigorous exercise that was otherwise known as the Honoring Day Dance. A few years ago, Neelix had found something called "square dancing" in the database and declared it akin to Talaxian "circle dancing," a Prixin tradition. Others had added line dances and even some formal but lively sets. There would be more sedate couples dancing as well, but not until the evening was well under way. The number of people in the holodeck, the energy expended, and the free flow of hard cider and syntheholic beverages always raised the temperature in the crowded room. He had learned years ago that this was a night to dress for comfort, not show.  
  
With a wry smile, he also noted the generous sprinkling of gray in his hair. One of his concessions to _Voyager's_ constrained circumstances had been to cease replication of the protein supplement which, among other things, kept his hair dark. The supplement was an indulgence to his vanity that couldn't be justified in light of the ship's limited resources. "Well," he said aloud, "at least I don't look any worse than I did seven years ago."  
  
Turning back to the room, he checked the chronometer and noted that he still had a few minutes before Kathryn expected him. His Prixin gift to her sat on the table, in a small, plain box adorned with a ribbon, and he picked it up, frowning a little as he studied it. "Computer," he said, "open the personal log of Commander Chakotay, new entry."  
  
_"Ready,"_ the computer replied instantly.

> _The Days of Remembrance are over; we begin the Days of Honoring in about half an hour. In a way, I'm sorry; the Days of Remembrance during Prixin have always conjured up memories of my tribe's traditional Day of the Dead celebration. Over the centuries, we've managed to absorb traditions from the Aztec, Mayan, and Catholic cultures, so that my father's ritual was no less an adaptation than Neelix's version of Prixin for us. In the past, I have found the Honoring ceremony to be solemn and respectful but not cathartic, not like the Dia de Los Muertos at home. Until this year. This year, I could all but smell the cempazuchil flowers and copal incense, and feel the souls pressing around us._  
  
_ Neelix changed things a little this year. I wonder if Sarexa influenced that or if he just realized that this year was different for us. The Honoring ceremony was more participative, and the whole experience was more immediate and personal than ever before. A lot of people left the first Day of Remembrance in tears, but they came back to the second day all the more relaxed because of it. Last night's dinner was more like an Irish wake, with a lot of good stories and laughter; I think everyone enjoyed themselves. It felt like our Dia de los Muertos celebration._  
  
_ Perhaps that was why I was thinking of Micteacacihuatl, the Aztec goddess who in ancient times was the sponsor of the Day of the Dead. She is the Protector of the souls on their journey from the underworld to this one. My people don't worship the old gods, but we learn about them; and as a child, I imagined Micteacacihuatl to be a source of strength, a warrior queen who could fend off demons and yet provide comfort that flowed from a loving heart._  
  
_ I was thinking this last night when I noticed Kathryn giving Luke Ashmore a hug: Luke, his heart still broken from losing his wife to the Borg, and Kathryn, the warrior who led that fight, giving him comfort. It crystallized for me at that moment: to the crew, Kathryn is Micteacacihuatl, their protector, and she knows it. She knows it and she will allow nothing to distract her from that role, especially not her own feelings._  
  
_ I watched her the last two nights as she stood among them, smiling here, touching an arm there, even holding Mariah Henley as she cried for Ken Dalby. She was a perfect blend of compassion and fortitude -- and no one ever saw how hard it was for her. If I didn't know her as well as I do, I wouldn't have seen it. The signs were subtle, but there: a certain look in her eyes, a tenseness in her neck and shoulders. She's grieving for every crew member who died this year, and for Korok, and Lynella, and even Hernandez. But she knows what the crew expects from her -- needs from her -- and she won't let them down. It's that simple. She won't let them down. She'll just keep her own feelings tamped down so she can be strong for them._  
  
_ I hoped she would ask me in for coffee after one of the ceremonies and unburden herself. It would have done us both good to acknowledge and share the pain -- and yes, the responsibility -- we both feel for the events of the past year. But she didn't ask, and I didn't push it. I promised her that I would wait until she was ready, and I will._

His next words tumbled out quickly, without thought.

> _Gods, but I miss her. I miss seeing her come out of the shower in the morning, damp and smiling. I miss the way she'd press her icy toes against my legs to warm them. I miss waking up in the night and listening to her breathe. I miss being able to talk to her about anything, no matter how personal or deeply felt. I think she misses me, too, but it has to be her decision to change things. If circumstances were different, if we were back the Alpha Quadrant, I might try to force the issue, but not here and now. There's too much at stake._

He paused and regrouped. He had intended to make a point, not rehash the same old arguments.

> _That doesn't mean I won't worry about her. I'm already worried about tonight's party. It's supposed to be a joyful commemoration of Today, the present, and she's not particularly happy about our current state. The ship is grounded; repairs are taking longer than we hoped; and it's likely to be weeks before we can resume our journey. Knowing Kathryn, that's bothering her nearly as much as the lost crewmen._  
  
_ At least she's agreed to let me escort her tonight, although I don't have any illusions about what will happen. She will be gracious and cordial, but no more so than she will be with anyone else. We'll partner in at least one of the group dances, perhaps two. The group dances are safe enough. She won't join any of the couples dances. If things become too rowdy, like last year, I can get us out discreetly. If nothing else, I can honestly say that I wanted a private moment to give her a Prixin gift._  
  
_The gift... _(He hefted the box a little, remembering its contents.)  
  
_I found this set months ago, and bought it only because I thought it was pretty and would flatter her. Now, I wonder if my subconscious was at work. The necklace and earrings are each a strand of flowers, delicate enamel petals hand-painted in blazing yellow with red edge. Marigolds. _Cempazuchil_ flowers, symbols of _Micteacacihuatl_, who uses their spicy scent as she guides the spirits in her care._  
  
_ I wonder if she will accept it. If she feels that it is too intimate a present, she may be uncomfortable with it. We're still trying to find our footing on the path back to simple friendship. I'll have to remind her that I've given her jewelry before. I'm certainly not going to tell her the symbolism of the cempazuchili._  
  
_ Somehow I don't think she'd be flattered by a comparison to an ancient goddess of death..._

He smiled as he said, _"End entry."_  
  
He looked at the chronometer again and saw that it was time to leave. Kathryn should be ready by now.  
  
Still holding the gift box, he left his quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay -- Penny


	6. Day 5: Second Day of Honoring

  
**Prixin, Fifth Day - Day of Honoring 2 - Stardate 55003**  
  
"I thought you might be out here, Icheb. I've been looking for you."  
  
"I'm sorry, Naomi, I didn't know. Would you like to join me?" He grinned down at her. Icheb was perched about a meter above her, on a large outcropping of rock set into the hillside above his tent. He had discovered "his spot" shortly after _Voyager_ had landed on New Hope and immediately claimed it as his own. Naomi had started calling it "Icheb's Cliff," and most of the crew had followed suit. He often could be found there, especially in the evenings. His evident delight in the beauty of his surroundings had resulted in a fair bit of ribbing, particularly from Tom Paris, but even being called "Nature Boy" hadn't dissuaded him. In fact, he had been surprised to find that he rather liked the attention and the gentle teasing. It made him feel very much a part of _Voyager's_ family, something that had been a long time coming. "Come up Naomi," he repeated. He patted the space beside him. "The rock is still warm from the day's sun. And the stars are beautiful tonight."  
  
Naomi scrambled up the side of the outcrop, refusing his outstretched hand. She'd had a fair bit of climbing practice by now, and knew just where the footholds were. She settled in beside him and gazed up at the sparkling sky.  
  
"You're right Icheb," she acknowledged. "It's beautiful."  
  
"Last night Lieutenant Tuvok gave me a book filled with charts and descriptions of the Terran constellations as a Prixin gift. It contains a great many details about each of them, including the legends associated with each one. Some of them are quite fascinating, Naomi. Sea monsters, dragons, flying equines..."  
  
"Flying equines?"  
  
He paused for a moment as he remembered what he had read. "I believe the name was Pegasus," he said. "And it sprang from the neck of Medusa, a Gorgon," he explained, when Naomi looked at him in askance.  
  
"A Gorgon?" She repeated. "Medusa? They sound like Delta Quadrant species to me. Maybe we should make up legends about the stars above New Hope."  
  
Icheb looked at her in surprise. "Tuvok recommended I do that, too. There is a place in the back of the book for notes," he added. "We could write our own chapter."  
  
"Let's start with that one," Naomi pointed at a shimmering cluster of stars almost directly above them. "What shall we call it?"  
  
"I've already thought of a name for that one." Icheb told her. "Do you see how closely the stars are aligned?" he continued. "Yet I can see each star clearly. They are individuals, but together, they are the brightest constellation in the sky."  
  
"Yes...I see that," she responded hesitantly. "It's not...the Collective, is it?"  
  
"_Voyager_." His voice was barely a whisper. "I call that constellation _Voyager_."  
  
Silence fell between them, but for the first time since Icheb returned from Tall Girl Mountain and explained to Naomi that they were still too young to commit themselves to an engagement, they were comfortable with one another. Icheb placed his arm around Naomi. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and they both turned their full attention to the skies above.  
  
**Personal Log: Icheb, First Year Cadet, Stardate 55004.2**

> _I have enjoyed Prixin this year. In past years I have been...uncomfortable during the celebrations, but this year I am not. When I told Naomi how I am feeling, she said it is because I am learning to have fun. Perhaps she is correct. Certainly last night would fall into the category of fun. Lieutenant Kim was in charge of the evening. He and his musicians greeted everyone as they arrived with a musical salute. I remember Lieutenant Paris' was 'Fly me to the Moon,' and Neelix' was 'A Taste of Honey.' Mine was 'Climb Every Mountain.' Lieutenant Kim had a printed list, a 'program,' he called it, that provided the titles to our 'personal fanfares,' which he distributed at the beginning of the evening ceremonies.  
  
I sat with Naomi and her mother, and with Lieutenant Paris -- I mean Tom -- he has asked me to call him Tom -- and Lieutenant Torres -- B'Elanna -- and Miral. The infant attracted much attention and Lieut...Tom is very proud of her. I believe she is considered quite beautiful, although I'm not sure why at this point. She is very small and can be quite odiferous at times. She can also produce sound at a volume that is far greater than one would expect, considering her size. However, Naomi has informed me that she is a superb specimen and that she will no doubt 'grow on me.'  
  
We all gathered around Neelix' buffet table as Captain Janeway lit the blue Candle of Gratitude. As she lit it, she asked us to think of members of our _Voyager_ family who have touched us this year. I thought immediately of Naomi, of course. But I also thought of Tom Paris and his family. They have shown me so much kindness and attention. I am very grateful for it.  
  
The music started playing before we had finished our meal. Lieutenant Kim called on members of the senior staff to begin the dancing. Although the captain protested that she hadn't danced in a long time, Commander Chakotay stood in front of her chair and told her he wouldn't move until she complied and asked her, 'what about the swan?' She said that didn't count; but he said that since she had gotten him to sing on the first night, she owed him. The rest of the crew began to applaud and finally the captain stood up, bowed to the room and said 'uncle,' which Ensign Wildman explained to me meant she would dance with him. Lieutenant Kim and his musicians started to play some very unusual, very quick music. Tom told me it is called 'The Beer Barrel Polka.' The captain started to laugh and took a long drink from her goblet, which B'Elanna thought contained real Antarian cider. I did not say anything, of course, but it's entirely possible she was right.  
  
Almost everyone danced. Lieutenant Tuvok could not be convinced to participate, although the captain attempted to persuade him. I offered to hold Miral while Lieut...Tom and B'Elanna joined in, but they declined my offer and showed me how the baby's carrier could be adapted to allow them to participate. Naomi insisted I accompany her onto the dance floor, and I did. I must admit that at first I was nervous, but in the end I found the dancing to be most enjoyable. I noticed quickly that there are no set rules to this sort of communal dancing -- everyone seems to move to their own rhythm and with their own style. It was almost exhilarating. I danced with Naomi, with B'Elanna, and with Ensign Gilmore.  
_  
_There were many gifts exchanged tonight, but Lieutenant Kim's was the most unusual, I think. His gift to Ensign Gilmore was a hard sided helmet and a song that he and his musical ensemble played at the end of the evening. He explained he had written it especially for her; that he was going to pipe it through the communications system each time she was assigned to an away team; and that he hoped each time she heard it, she would remember to wear her 'away mission gear.'  
_  
_My gift to Naomi was a replicated copy of a novel from the 19th century called 'Little Men.' She seemed to be very pleased with my selection. I know that she has read another volume by the same author several times. Naomi gave me a shell that she collected on the shores of the Narcan Vol Ocean. She and her mother visited there several years ago, and I know that trip was very special to both of them. When I unwrapped the gift, Ensign Wildman explained to me that expedition was the first time Naomi had ever been off of _Voyager_. I will always treasure it._  
  
End log.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Icheb -- CyberMum


	7. Day 6: First Day of Anticipation

**Prixin: Sixth Day - Day of Anticipation 1 - Stardate 55006**

  
**Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 55005.9.**

  


>   
_We have now moved well past the midpoint of the Prixin holiday. I've always admired the subtle shift from focusing on the past to the present, and then onward to the future. Secure in the knowledge of being in the arms of 'family,' wrapped up in the comfort of their love, everyone is looking forward with joy, knowing that tomorrow will only bring better than today. This spirit of optimism is one of the things I admire most about this celebration that Neelix has introduced us to, perhaps because there are times I find it sorely lacking in myself._
> 
> _But a captain isn't supposed to feel that way. I'm supposed to be looking bravely ahead, reminding myself and my crew how truly lucky we are. It's my job to reassure them that our future is indeed bright. We may not get home as quickly as we had originally anticipated, but even without transwarp, it's not going to take us more than another decade and a half. Barring major disaster, that is. And even I don't dwell on that possibility for more than a few moments in the deepest part of the night._
> 
> _Somehow, more than any other year, Prixin and its meaning are weighing heavily on my mind. Perhaps that's because this is the first time we've been planet-bound for such an extended period. It was late summer on New Hope when we landed; now the crisp days of fall are rapidly taking on the chill of winter. It's been a long time since I spent enough time on a planet to actually be affected by the seasonal swings. Although there was a point early in the journey when I did spend a few months planet-side, living a life wholly separate from Voyager -- when Chakotay and I were together on New Earth. We thought it was going to be for the rest of our lives. But of course, it wasn't. No more than those weeks on Gunrath'u were..._
> 
> _I've spent more than half my life on board starships, have gotten used to artificial light and re-circulated air as the norm. Fresh air, cool breezes...that's what you get while you're on leave. Natural sunshine is a luxury; and frankly, with my complexion and tendency to burn, not one I ever felt much in need of. Or so I thought._
> 
> _Earlier today, toward late afternoon, I was seized with the sudden desire to go outside the ship to get a breath of air. After a word to Tuvok, I grabbed my heavier jacket -- once the sun begins to go down the temperature drops pretty rapidly -- and slipped out the hatch. I walked a few paces away from the ship, till I was out from under its shadow. I leaned my head back and felt the warmth of the sun on my face._
> 
> _It's a common fallacy among 'Grounders' -- humans who've never been out of Earth's own solar system -- that a Class M designation for a planet is the same as saying it's 'Earth-like.' What the term really means is there is an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, and the median temperature range falls between minus 50 and plus 60. There are no guarantees that the flora and fauna will be anything that remotely resembles the Terran varieties. In my time I have been on many alien worlds, some more or less like the planet of my birth, others vastly different. But only once before in the Delta Quadrant have I stood on the surface of a world that felt so strongly like home..._
> 
> _The New Hope sky was a delicate apple-green, with just a few wisps of clouds. I headed off toward the nearby copse of trees, no real destination in mind, other than to stretch my legs for a bit. The tall trunks loomed overhead, the deep whorls on the bark of the alon trees looking like runes carved in a mysterious alien tongue. A bird sang out overhead, and within a few seconds it flashed into view, its mauve feathers touched with gold wherever the light hit. It alit on a nearby branch, using its prehensile tail as well as its tri-clawed feet to maintain its hold. It gave me an almost amused glance before breaking into another song. These tziporim, as the Vordai call them, remind me a little of the Terran mockingbirds, but have a broader range and an even more impressive repertoire. I listened as the music came to a halt, and then, suddenly, the creature rose into the air once more._
> 
> _I rushed after it, into the heart of the forest. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, yet I was vaguely aware I was moving farther away from Voyager. An occasional flash of purple and rose, once a silky feather floating gently down on the mossy trail, were my only indications that I was following in the right direction. And then with a burst of song more beautiful than any I'd yet heard, just when I was sure I'd finally found it, the bird seemed to vanish completely._
> 
> _I dropped to my knees, suddenly weary. Without quite understanding why, I was overcome with a sense of overwhelming loss and sadness. I took a deep breath. It was just the stress of the repair efforts, I told myself. And the memories evoked by the Days of Remembrance, and of the Honoring. Remembering those of my crew I'd lost, who'd died because I couldn't save them. And at that my resolve broke, and I threw myself down and cried._
> 
> _I don't know how long I lay there among the fallen leaves. After a while the tears began to slow, and I felt a curious sense of relief. Maybe I'd just needed the release. I had kept these emotions bottled up inside me for too long. I started to rise, and then I noticed something off to the side of the path, which I hadn't been aware of before. I moved a bit closer. It was a slender tree, its stature smaller, its color lighter, than any of those around it. And at its base there was a cluster of flowers._
> 
> _Their petals were a blazing yellow, with an edging of red. I'd seen them somewhere before -- the aeroponics bay perhaps? -- and then it hit me. They looked just like marigolds. They were the same flowers as the ones on the jewelry Chakotay gave me two nights ago, before the dance._
> 
> _It sounds strange to say these words even to myself, but at that moment, I had a sudden epiphany. That instead of spending the rest of my life regretting the past and worrying about the future -- of dwelling on everything I'd lost -- it was time I started learning to enjoy the present, to appreciate what I have now. And I do have so very much, perhaps much more than I deserve -- something so precious, I can no longer afford to keep pushing it away. To keep pushing him away._
> 
> _For seven long years, I've been acting as though I could show the breadth of my commitment to my crew and ship by the depth of my own unhappiness. So wrong, and so unnecessary. It's time for a change._
> 
> _End log._

  
  
Janeway took one last look at herself in the mirror, at the blue tunic and leggings, the only ornament, her silvery combadge. She frowned, then picked up the soft pouch that lay on her dresser. She opened it and gently shook out its contents into her hand, admiring the vibrant colors and exquisite workmanship of the jewelry once more.

She carefully fastened the clasp of the necklace and slipped on the earrings. Picking up her hairbrush, she smoothed her hair back and off her face, working the shoulder length strands into a soft knot caught at the nape of her neck. She smiled as the dancing earrings, now fully visible, caught the light. Tonight marked the beginning of the Days of Anticipation. She had some anticipating of her own for the evening: the look on Chakotay's face when she told him that the seed they'd planted in their Lotos Days had indeed come to fruition.

________________________________________

  
**Personal Log: Noah Lessing, 6th Day of Prixin, Stardate: 55007.1**

  


>   
_It's hard to believe the difference between this Prixin and last year's. Last year, they started talking about Prixin like we should know what it was, and of course we had no idea. We'd been on the ship about five months by then, but we still were on the fringe of things. I remember standing between Marla and Jim during the Convocation ceremony and feeling like a Vulcan at a Christmas dance, wondering what all the fuss was about and not knowing the proper steps. It didn't help that the crew wasn't exactly ready to welcome the five of us from the Equinox into the family fold. And if the Convocation was awkward, it was nothing compared to the Days of Remembrance. The recitation of the three who died because of us was almost unbearable. We didn't show up for the next three nights._
> 
> _Joe Carey talked me into going to the Sixth Day celebration though. 'It's about the kids,' he told me, and I went even though I was uncertain of my reception. The atmosphere that night was different, though. It was a smaller crowd, mostly those who had children back in the Alpha Quadrant, and they were relaxed and happy. There's nothing quite like a bunch of parents,sitting around swapping baby stories._
> 
> _When it was my turn, I told them about Hannah. I told them the mailbox story, from when she was not quite three years old. 'My wife Virginia loves antiques,' I said, 'and she found an old wooden mailbox at a flea market some place. Do you know what a mail box is? It stands on a post about three feet high and has a small door in the front, where paper letters were delivered. It was Ginny's pride and joy. She painted flowers on the thing and had me dig a post hole at the end of the driveway so it could sit just where it would have two centuries ago, when mail was delivered by hand. I guess that post hole wasn't as good as I thought, though, because one day I was mowing the lawn and bumped up against that mailbox with the mower, and it just toppled over and smashed into pieces when it hit the pavement. Turns out Hannah was watching the whole thing from the window. 'Daddy went vroom,' she told Ginny, 'and the mailbox went crack. It was a sad day for the mailbox.'"_
> 
> _Everyone laughed. I passed around a picture of my girl, and looked at everyone else's pictures. We hadn't received any mail from home yet so everyone's pictures were old. We all tried to imagine how the children had changed. It was the first time I felt that, perhaps, I could fit in on this ship, some day._
> 
> _I thought about not going tonight, but I had a new picture of Hannah to show everyone. She's ten years old now, and so grown up. Looks a lot like Ginny. I passed it around and looked at all the others. I told them that Hannah has a new name now and is living with her mother and her new father on Luna Colony. I didn't tell them that I am grateful for that, because if we make it home, she won't have to explain to her friends and schoolmates why her daddy is probably going to prison._
> 
> _So I had a good time tonight. Mike Ayala had a picture of his son, and if ever a man was about to burst with pride, it was him. There was a picture of Luis with Joe Carey's boys, playing soccer together. Commander Tuvok had pictures of his granddaughter T'Meni. It's hard to think of him as a grandfather._
> 
> _You'd think that talking about our kids when we're so far from them would make us sad, but somehow, sharing these stories and pictures makes them seem closer._
> 
> _And Hannah will always be my little girl. My connection to the future. No matter what else happens, that's something I'll always celebrate._  
________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn Janeway --Rocky  
Noah Lessing -- Penny


	8. Day 7: Second Day of Anticipation

**Prixin: Seventh Day - Day of Anticipation 2 - Stardate 55009   
  
  
**Jenny Delaney was in a hurry. She had requested and pulled double shifts so that she would have extra off-duty time during Prixin. She'd spent the morning working on several complicated algorithms which she had finally solved, much to her satisfaction, and had rewarded herself with a lunch break down by the river, reveling in the New Hope sunshine. And now she was late getting back to work. She clambered up the steep bank and decided to take a shortcut through a small stand of trees that flanked the riverbed. She'd been through this way before and knew that others had used the same route for the same reason. She made her way cautiously through the vegetation, being careful not to get caught on the bramble-filled vines that clustered and twisted in and out of the roots of the trees. She was congratulating herself on her success when a slight misstep caused an even slighter loss of balance. Unfortunately, it was enough. She was caught, and there was nothing to do but settle herself carefully down on the ground and work herself out of the tangle.  
  
The vegetation wasn't thick, and from her vantage point, she could see beyond the trees to a secluded glade just on the other side of the wood. She wasn't unfamiliar with the area. She wasn't the only member of _Voyager's_ crew who had found it to be an ideal spot for a bit of solitude, quiet conversation, or even a romantic interlude.  
  
The clearing was occupied, which wasn't unusual. But what caught Jenny's eye was the cranberry and black of the occupants' uniforms. She leaned forward to find a better view, the tangle of vines momentarily forgotten.  
  
She couldn't make out any conversation -- if indeed there was any. But it was obvious that the two people in the glade were communicating nonetheless. The pair was seated close together on a fallen log and the man, whose back was to Jenny, had his arm around the woman. She in turn, was relaxed and leaning into his right side, her head hidden by his shoulder. Jenny watched as he turned toward her and she caught a glimpse of a familiar tattoo. The woman shifted slightly to allow her companion access to her lips, and Jenny grinned.  
  
"Well, my oh my." Jenny whispered to herself. "It's about time, you two, isn't it?" She looked down at her feet and set about freeing herself. It didn't take long. She stood up carefully, turned, and headed back in the direction from which she had come. She figured this was one time taking the long way was the best way to go.

* * *

  
  
**Personal log, Thomas Eugene Paris -- Stardate 55011.3**

> _It's funny. All my life, I've been part of a family, but tonight was the first time I really _knew_ what that meant-in my gut, not just in my head.  
  
Even when I'd screwed up but good and got myself kicked out of Starfleet, my parents stuck by me, although they were bitterly disappointed. They couldn't be any more disappointed in me than I was myself, though. I wasn't ready to accept that yet, but they never disowned me, like a lot of people said they should. I pretty much disowned myself.  
  
Once I found myself on _Voyager_, lost in the Delta Quadrant, I adopted Harry as my unofficial little brother. Eventually B'Elanna and I found each other and started on the road that led to the formation of our own little family. But despite exceptions like Seska and Michael Jonas, I already had a family in the Delta Quadrant long before B'Elanna and I came together.  
_  
_With the captain as our "mom," the _Voyager_ crew, Maquis and Starfleet alike, had turned into a family out here, guarding each other's backs and making a home for us on the ship. Maybe that's why, when we encountered Seven and Icheb and the _Equinox_ survivors, we were ready to accept them, too. We'd had lots of practice with the whole family formation process by then.  
  
I think maybe we owe a lot of that to Neelix and to this Talaxian "Celebration of Family" he talked us into celebrating, way back when he first came on board. I think we all thought it was a bit silly at first, but I can't imagine not celebrating Prixin every year now, for the rest of my life. Everyone else feels the same way. It's become part of us.  
  
Tonight, since we're planetside, we were able to have a real bonfire for the seventh night, not the fake one on the holodeck we had to have every other year. Professor Falon Col, the Grevel-Ash ambassador, was a little shocked. Her people apparently don't light fires for ceremonies like this. I think the captain and commander must have filled her in on the symbolism, though, because she seemed okay with it later on. And that was good, because tonight was special. Miral Paris, firstborn daughter of B'Elanna Torres and Thomas Eugene Paris, was formally inducted into the _Voyager_ family.  
_  
_It's strange. As special as that moment was, afterwards was when it hit me -- what it all really meant_.  
  
_The night air was chilly, but with that huge fire dancing up into the skies, we were pretty cozy. B'Elanna was curled up beside me, her head leaning on my shoulder, while I held Miral closely in my arms. The blanket was big and fit around the three of us, but with an extra baby quilt snuggled around Miral, of course. We were content just being there together while others stood up and shared stories of their families back home in the Alpha Quadrant. While I listened to my crewmates' stories, Miral's little face was burrowed into my chest. I could feel every precious breath she took.  
  
It struck me then, with all the force of a fist to the solar plexus, that Miral was a separate person in her own right, with her own history. We will have the privilege of watching just the beginning of her story, if all goes as it should. Obvious, huh? It's not that I didn't realize it before, but this time, with her there in my arms, I really felt it. The longer I thought about it, though, the more OK I was with it. It's my job, and B'Elanna's, to get Miral started on her way, to protect her and teach her until she can stand on her own. That's what parents do. Then it's all up to her -- including finding someone and having her own kids someday, if she wants them.  
  
I found myself thinking of my father, and of all the fathers and grandfathers before us. Did they ever have that same moment of realization about what it meant to become the father of a new generation of the Paris family? I guess it's foolish for me to assume I'm the only one who ever felt this way. Probably they all did at one time or another.  
  
I just knew at that moment that I would do everything I could, sacrifice anything necessary, to give my child the best chance to be safe and happy. An awesome responsibility, true, but a privilege -- and after all the ways I'd managed to mess up my life before _Voyager_, my acceptance of that task has to classify as a miracle.  
  
We sat there for a long time, B'Elanna, Miral, and I, as the flames of the _watika_ wood fire ascended into the night sky, higher and higher, until I could barely tell where sparks ended and stars began. Somehow it didn't matter.  
  
As much as I love flying through space, if anything happened and we were truly planet-bound here, I wouldn't feel like I was back in prison, as I would have only a few years ago. Now, everything I really needed to make me happy was wrapped up in my arms and leaning against my shoulder.  
  
I've even got the little brother, although it's not Harry this time. Lieutenant Kim was sitting on the other side of the fire, all caught up in Marla Gilmore. This time, the little brother was more than simply honorary -- or will be, soon.  
  
After Samantha Wildman and Naomi left the gathering, without any announcement of the betrothal between Naomi and Icheb that a lot of the crew had expected, Icheb came over to sit next to B'Elanna and me. I wasn't surprised. He's already told me of their decision not to go any further in their relationship while they were still so young. I know Sam must be relieved. He's a pretty wise kid in a lot of ways, smart enough to know he isn't ready for that sort of commitment yet, and that Naomi isn't either, no matter what she thinks. I'm glad Naomi finally realizes it, too.  
  
And even though I'd been intending to keep it hush-hush for a little while longer, I decided it was time to announce what my parents had confirmed in their last data stream message. With Icheb's consent, as well as my sisters', they've instituted legal proceedings to adopt Icheb. Everyone expressed surprise, with the notable exception of Captain Janeway. She must have had inside info from Dad.  
  
I have a hunch Icheb's going to be able to handle the whole Paris tradition thing a lot better than I have. He'll have a big brother to guide him. If he wants to know the pitfalls of being a Paris, all he has to do is check back on what I did, and just do the opposite. After what he went through with his natural parents, though, I'm sure he'll take to being a Paris just fine.  
  
Before that happens, we have to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. There's plenty of work to do here first; but with Captain Janeway leading us, I know we'll get there sooner rather than later. But after we do, I can't imagine not celebrating Prixin anymore. The folks at home will just have to learn how to celebrate it with us. I'm sure they will.  
  
Because it's all about family. And when you get right down to it, doesn't it always end up that way somehow? It took me a long time to figure that out, but finally, with B'Elanna's help -- not to mention Miral's -- I have.__  
  
__End Log_.

* * *

  
  
The EMH hummed a snatch of Verdi as he moved about the deserted Sickbay, assuring himself that his supplies were fully stocked and in the right place. There hadn't been much call for medical services for a few weeks, nothing more than a strained muscle here or minor laceration there incurred in the course of repairing the ship. As expected, he had treated several cases of upset stomach after Prixin dinners, and a fair number of hangovers the day after the Day Four Honoring Dance, but all in all, nothing too serious had befallen the crew since Ensign Gilmore's most recent head injury and the birth of Miral Paris.  
  
Once, the absence of much need for medical services would have prompted him to deactivate, but he had long since found more motivation and purpose than that. He had Kes to thank for that, he reflected. If she had not encouraged him to expand his programming and develop other interests, he would still be little more than a Mark-1 EMH with a poor bedside manner -- and a bleak future as a waste extraction system maintainer, once _Voyager_ returned to the Alpha Quadrant.  
  
He still missed Kes. And Seven. It was odd to experience Prixin without either of them, and odder still to make them both the topic of discussion at a ceremony. He had spoken of them at the Day Five dinner when stories were told about living family members, especially those who were far away. Sometimes the stories could be sad or sentimental, but this year, they had been quite lively. Although he had begun a story about Kes, it had been interrupted, enhanced and continued by Neelix and Paris and others so that in the end, it was more of a round robin than a personal recollection. The same thing happened when Captain Janeway began a story about Seven, although he himself had been the first to interrupt her. Remembering, he shook his head at his own temerity. But the night had been very informal, and the captain didn't seem to mind.  
  
As he walked into his office, he realized that he was enjoying the Prixin holidays despite the absence of his two dear friends, and far more than he had expected to only a week ago. The reason for that enjoyment was clear to him. Taking his seat behind his desk, he said, "Computer. Open the personal log of the EMH."  
  
"_Log open."_  
  
He leaned back, and began recording_._

> _There's no doubt about it. Thanks to my tact, quick thinking and, dare I add, charm, I successfully averted a major diplomatic incident this week. In fact, I doubt that there are more than three officers on board who could have handled it as well. Perhaps not even that many. For now, no one is aware of this narrow escape but me; the captain seems to be somewhat preoccupied, probably by the combination of Prixin and the ongoing repairs. There is no point in adding to that burden now. I can tell her after the holidays.  
  
We knew the Grevel-Ash would send an observer to New Hope when they assumed orbital surveillance; all four worlds send someone to live in that little cabin of Jol's during their rotation. The request from the Secretary of Commerce to allow their observer to stay on _Voyager_ instead of the shelter was immediately recognized for what it was: a blatant attempt to monitor us and verify our compliance with the agreement that allows us to stay here. The Grevel-Ash are the most suspicious of the worlds. But, as Captain Janeway noted, we can't afford to antagonize them just now. Some of their engineering equipment is more compatible with Federation technology than that from the other worlds, and we need their help.  
  
So, she sent back a message assuring them that their observer was welcome and would be afforded every hospitality of the ship. Then she asked me, rather than Neelix or one of the other officers, to take responsibility for keeping an eye on our guest while she kept an eye on us. My duties in Sickbay are fairly light at the moment. I have more time available than most of the others, so it was only logical that she should give me this assignment. Still, I was gratified that she gave it to me; she obviously has confidence in my ability to handle important diplomatic contacts.  
  
Professor Falon Col proved to be like all the other Grevel-Ash we have encountered so far: bald, beige and blunt. She's not bad looking; in fact, her eyes are quite nice, and if she would smile, she might even be pretty. Unfortunately, her normal expression appears to be a deep frown. This is, I am now convinced, a natural state for her people and not indicative of disapproval or unhappiness. It's unfortunate, because it creates the wrong impression. I'm now convinced that the Grevel-Ash are naturally fastidious and lacking in tact, but basically well-meaning. It took a while to come to that conclusion, however.  
  
After introductions, which I thought went very well, I escorted her to her quarters and gave her some privacy while she unpacked and freshened up. Then I returned and gave her a tour of the ship. She did not hesitate to offer her opinion on any aspect of _Voyager_. The problem was that even her positive opinions were expressed in ways that were anything but complimentary.  
  
We began in the Mess Hall, which was in a state of controlled chaos as Neelix and his team got ready for the Prixin First Night celebration. 'It is certainly of ample size, but is it always this disordered?' she asked. 'I'm accustomed to a somewhat more sanitary approach to food preparation. Perhaps you possess less sensitive digestive systems than we do. We are rather delicate in that regard.'  
  
Normally Mr. Neelix is the most affable of people, but that comment offended him deeply. 'I know it looks disorganized, but the food is handled with the utmost care.'  
  
Then Sarexa stepped forward, smiling. 'I assure you, Professor. No one is poisoned on this ship by accident.'  
  
I thought it best to leave then, before Professor Col began to think about the full ramifications of that statement. We made our way down the decks, and she expressed admiration for the Astrometrics Lab, although she did tell Megan Delaney that a red uniform would suit her coloring better than the blue one.  
  
It was the same everywhere we went: every opinion came with a positive and a negative. If she was not impressed by our technology, she said so, but complimented the décor or some such; if she was impressed, she found fault with the aesthetic presentation. In Sickbay, she informed me that the inpatient ward captured the aura of the room, but the surgery should be painted pink. In Main Engineering, she told B'Elanna the impulse engines were meticulously maintained but the walls should be green. On the Bridge, she told the Captain that the layout was efficient but the carpets were dirty.  
  
I began to think it was going to be a long three months.  
  
She came with me to the Opening Night ceremony, wearing a beige dress and a huge magenta feather attached to a headband. Its tip bobbed into the face of anyone that got close enough to talk with her. A few people tried to engage her in conversation, but everything she said was either a back-handed compliment or a thinly veiled insult, depending on the perception of the listener; that and the feather discouraged everyone in short order. I gave her my grab-bag gift -- a rather large stuffed animal that had to be the handiwork of Sue Nicoletti. She's made a variety of animals for Prixin over the years, although her skills have improved; the first one she made looked like a cross between a camel and a dog. This one was a very creditable bear. Professor Col accepted it without so much as a word.  
  
By then, I was weary from the effort of charming her and smoothing ruffled feathers in her wake, so at the first reasonable opportunity I escorted her to her quarters and bid her goodnight. Then I returned to Sickbay and dropped into stand-by mode, my own form of regeneration.  
  
I knew there was a problem as soon as I went to pick her up for breakfast. When she admitted me to her quarters, her bags were packed and waiting. 'Please arrange for transportation to the observer's cabin at once,' she said to me, rather stiffly.  
  
This was calamitous! The Captain would blame me, and I had no idea what had gone wrong. I tried to remain calm. 'Of course. But why?' I asked.  
  
'I will not stay where I am not welcome,' she said. I noticed then that her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, as if she had been crying.  
  
'But you are welcome,' I assured her. 'Why would you think otherwise? Has someone said something that offended you?'  
  
She drew back, clearly affronted. 'Do not pretend you don't know. I came here understanding that I was to be offered full hospitality. Since you have reneged on that promise, I have no choice but to leave.'  
  
I had no idea what she meant. We had all made extraordinary efforts to be hospitable. 'Please,' I said to her. 'Keep in mind that we are still in the early stages of First Contact. I think there has been a misunderstanding of some kind. Will you please tell me how we have been lacking as hosts?'  
  
She stared at me, biting her lower lip. 'Is it possible that you really do not know? Can you be that ignorant?'  
  
'I assure you,' I said nobly, 'I am that ignorant. Please, tell me.'  
  
Again she looked at me, trying to decide whether or not I was sincere. Finally she said, 'You rejected me last night. Rejection by a guest spouse is insupportable.'  
  
I swallowed. 'Guest spouse? Me?'  
  
'The Captain said you were my liaison. But last night you left me alone.' Suddenly her cheeks flushed and she became quite animated. 'I'll have you know that I am a fully wedded woman with three husbands and two co-wives and that I am considered extremely desirable in most circles. Why, the Dean himself has expressed an interest.'  
  
'I -- I'm sure you are,' I said. 'I mean, of course you are.'  
  
I don't think she heard me. She kept talking. 'What's more, it was exceptionally gracious of me to accept a guest spouse who has so much hair!' And with that, she folded her arms and nodded her head once to emphasize the enormity of her effort.  
  
For a moment we stood silently. I wondered whether I should call Commander Chakotay, since he has much more experience in cultural misunderstandings than I do, but then I realized that this was a problem with a bruised ego, a psychological injury I was more than capable of treating. 'I think I see the problem,' I said. 'The concept of guest spouse is not part of Human hospitality. We take a different approach to such things.'  
  
She looked at me dubiously. 'Do you mean that you aren't capable?'  
  
'I most certainly am capable,' I answered with some pride. 'My programming has been enhanced to cover all such activities.' I refrained from dropping the names Denara Pel and Tincoo. After all, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. 'What I mean is, liaisons such as that are not usually pre-arranged. We prefer them to be more spontaneous and, uh, of mutual determination.'  
  
Looking completely unconvinced, she said, 'That sounds very inefficient. How long does it take for spontaneity and 'mutual determination' to reach a conclusion?'  
  
I told her that it varies, depending on the people involved -- and that sometimes, things don't quite work out. Her lower lip slid a little forward. 'I am not accustomed to sleeping alone. And I am to be here for three months.'  
  
A lesser man might have crumbled. She does have very nice eyes, and they were glistening with tears. Fortunately for me, inspiration struck. 'I've got an idea. You don't really want me or any of the others as a guest spouse, do you? It's all right, you can be frank.'  
  
'No, but I didn't wish to be rude,' she said.  
  
'Then why don't you send for one of your spouses to join you after all? And until then, you can use this.' I picked up the teddy bear that she had left on the table. 'It's a talisman for warding off loneliness. Take it to bed with you, and it will keep you warm and make you feel less alone.'  
  
She agreed to try it. And since then, I have devoted every moment to assuring her comfort and she's been a joy. Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. At the Fourth Night Dance she told Harry Kim that his jacket was well tailored but he'd look better bald. Still, I think we have all concluded that she means no harm. I suspect that it is a cultural norm among the Grevel-Ash to provide two-sided opinions on almost everything. And it's hard to find too much fault with anyone who thinks I have a lot of hair.  
  
Today she received word that her spouse will be here in a week, so she is happy. What's more, she told me she thinks the teddy bear is a very acceptable custom, so much so that she intends to introduce it into her household when she returns to her home. She also has enjoyed our Prixin celebrations and says it demonstrates a level of sensibility she finds almost comparable to that of her people.  
  
Diplomatic relations with the Grevel-Ash have been salvaged. Prixin continued without interruption. And the more I think about it, the more I'm certain this little incident will make a fine addition to my holonovel, although perhaps it could use a little more spice. It would be interesting if the alien observer fell in love with the hero. A doomed romance, perhaps, because she is already committed to another and she is not free to act on her love...she could decide to end her life rather than live without me, uh, the hero, but he nobly persuades her to be brave and to go on. Oh yes, that has real possibilities.  
  
Perhaps I don't need to mention this to anyone. After all, no harm was done, and I'm writing a full report on what I've learned about Grevel-Ash customs, so the knowledge won't be lost. Yes, now that I think about, there's really no reason to bring this to the captain's attention. All's well that ends well.  
  
Oh. It's time to fetch Falon for tonight's ceremony. Computer, end entry._

* * *

  
  
Jenny laughed heartily as she read the message from Susan. "Hey, Megan, do you have twelve credits I can borrow?"  
  
Megan opened an eye, then closed it and stretched out on her bed. "Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. You still owe me thirty-five from last week."  
  
"It's just twenty-four. I returned eleven."  
  
"Good. Why do you need twelve credits?"  
  
"I just need them."  
  
Megan yawned. "No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No." Megan repeated as she rolled over. "And until that alarms goes off, or the captain and Chakotay consummate their relationship, I want to sleep." Her voice trailed off, but Jenny wasn't going to let her sister leave her an opening like that and not take it. She laughed.  
  
Megan opened both eyes and glared. "You're damn lucky I don't have a phaser. I want a nap before tonight's ceremony. And you're not my alarm clock."  
  
"You forgot the other condition."  
  
"What? Oh." She yawned, and closed her eyes. Jenny waited and counted quietly. Megan sat up quickly. "You're kidding, right?  
  
"I have my suspicions."  
  
"Really? Finally?"  
  
Jenny's smile just grew, "Loan me the twelve credits and I'll tell you."

* * *

  
**  
Jenny Delaney's Personal Log, Stardate 55010.9**

> _Well, I finished my dress today. I'll wear it for tonight's Prixin celebration, but it is really for our return-to-the-Alpha-Quadrant-parties. The Minenne peddler who stationed himself in orbit last week must have done a lot of business before being driven off by the Grevel-Ash patrols. I found a piece of silk-like material that was gorgeous. It was SO expensive, but I'm glad I bought it. I also bought a rare Vordai telescope for Robbie. Least the peddler said it was rare and Vordai. Who knows if that is true? But in the Alpha Quadrant, it will be unique.  
  
Looks like we'll be missing Robbie's graduation...again. It wasn't our fault that Megan and I spent his high school graduation in a Martian jail.  
  
And of course when he got his B.S. degree, we had just been pulled into the Delta Quadrant. Poor Robbie_

He was their baby brother: she and her sister had been the studious ones, both going to the Academy, while everyone had hoped Robbie would not land in jail someplace. This brought a laugh. Instead of Robbie being tossed in jail, she and Megan had been the ones.

> _It's been eight years since we last saw him. We had arranged to meet after our three-week mission. Now I can't wait to see our baby brother._

She stared at the log, remembering home and family. It must be Prixin, she realized. She was always more homesick during Prixin. A change in subject was what she need.

> _Hugh wants to do a play, and Janeway has agreed. He wanted Megan and me to be the stars in' Two Sisters from Verona.' He would have rewritten the play, but I'd rather not. Megan instead agreed to play Viola in 'Twelfth Night.' I'll help with costumes.  
  
But I still really need those twelve credits..._

* * *

  
**  
****Personal Log, Samantha Wildman, Stardate: 55011.1**

> _I can't believe tomorrow is the last day of Prixin. It really has gone by in a flash this year. Since none of us can be sure we'll be together next year to celebrate it, if all goes well with the new, improved slipstream drive Joe has been working on, this one could be the last one I'd ever celebrate! Of course, if we're back home next year, we could celebrate it ourselves when we're a whole family again -- Naomi, Greskrendtregk, and me. Just the three of us.  
  
Just the three of us. That's really a relief -- not that I don't like Icheb, or anything like that. I'm happy that Admiral Paris and his wife intend to adopt him so that he can have a family of his own. That will be so much better than marrying when he and Naomi are both so young.  
  
Naomi wasn't happy when he told her he wanted to take it slowly, but I'm glad he was wise enough to realize the truth. He seems much happier since she's not pressuring him anymore. I admit, that made it easier to tell her I could do much worse for a son-in-law, but the truth is, I could -- I know that. It's just too soon to worry about getting along with a son-in-law!  
  
Right now, I'd rather have a son than a son-in-law.  
_  
_Day 7 of Prixin always gets me choked up a little. All of the talk about future generations reminds me of things I'd rather not remember.  
  
Naomi has never had a 'normal' family life (whatever that is!), not that I can say I have, either. After all, I know what it's like to watch my only daughter die. If the duplicate Voyager hadn't formed, and if the Harry Kim from that other ship hadn't brought that Naomi back to me, I'd never have gotten to know my daughter at all, any more than her father has.  
  
Even when we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, she'll never know her father the way Miral Paris, for example, will get to know Tom. I've often wished that Greskrendtregk had been aboard _Voyager_ when we were lost, instead of patiently waiting for me on Deep Space Nine. Maybe this whole crew would have been a little more normal from the beginning! It's pretty incredible that after seven years, the only other baby born on this ship to our crew has been Miral Paris, and she was born just weeks ago. (I can't bring myself to count Seven's One, since his birth, life, and death were so unique.)  
  
Once we get back home, I'd like to have another baby as soon as we can. Greskrendtregk deserves the chance to raise a son or daughter from infancy, the way I've been privileged to raise Naomi. He's kept true to his traditions, remaining alone when he thought I was lost. Getting his family back and seeing it grow would be the proper reward for such loyalty. Wouldn't it be wonderful?  
  
I hope we get there soon. This new drive has got to work. It seems the closer we get to home, the more impatient I am to actually be there. I can't take much more waiting. I want to be with my love once again. We all deserve that.__  
_  
_End log_.

* * *

  
  
**Late Evening, 7th Day of Prixin**:  
  
Chakotay, dressed only in his trousers, strode out of the bedroom into the main area of the cabin. Barefoot, he stumbled against a chair in the darkness. It would take some time till he was as familiar with the layout of her cabin as he was his own, or at least familiar enough to attempt to negotiate the furnishings in the absence of any illumination.  
  
"Lights at 5 percent," he said, ignoring the throbbing in his toe, "and open personal log of Commander Chakotay and begin recording."  
  
He waited until the computer assured him it was ready and then began speaking. "I want this on record, so that if I'm ever tempted to forget it there will be something to remind me. Not that I expect to be tempted, but just in case.  
  
"These are the rules I promise to live by: Rule Number One. In matters pertaining to this ship, the Captain is always right.  
  
"Rule Number Two. In matters pertaining to this ship, the Captain is always right. Except when she's wrong, and then it is the duty of the First Officer to tell her so. If she doesn't agree, then she's right."  
  
"Sounds more like a corollary than a separate rule in its own right, if you ask me."  
  
He looked up as Kathryn, tying the sash of her robe, came into the room. He made a 'shushing' motion with his fingers and continued to speak. "Rule Number Three. In matters pertaining to her personal life, Kathryn can be a little slow and requires great patience. Remember that patience is a virtue."  
  
"Slow...I wouldn't exactly call it that," she said, with just a hint of indignation in her voice. She came up to him and slipped her arms around his waist. "I just like to take the time to consider all of my options. Carefully."  
  
"Seven years is more than slow," he shot back. "We're talking a glacial pace."  
  
She shrugged and turned away. "That's what I get for falling for someone whose first love was archeology," she said ruefully.  
  
He raised a questioning brow. "What's wrong with that?"  
  
"Absolutely nothing." She settled herself on the couch and gave him a smile. "And I'm grateful for your patience."  
  
He sat down beside her. "I'm grateful for your 'strong decision making skills', that once you decide on a course of action, you follow it whole-heartedly."  
  
"I like your choice of words," she said approvingly. "But, I'm interrupting. Please, do go on with your list. It's most interesting."  
  
"Rule Number Four," he said, drawing her head down onto his shoulder. "Kathryn has a particularly sensitive spot just behind her left earlobe and another one on the back of her right knee."  
  
"What kind of a rule is that?" she said, sitting up and giving him a look.  
  
"You're right -- it _is_ more of an observation."  
  
"Besides," she added, "I don't think there's any danger of your forgetting _that_ minor detail any time soon."  
  
"Minor detail? You mean you won't let me forget," he said, pulling her close once more.  
  
She tweaked his ear playfully. "Let's just say I'll give you ample reminders."  
  
"Just drop the Queen of Hearts here and there around the ship. I'll remember what it means." She chuckled at his reference to the message she had left for him at the Plor space station.  
  
He held up one finger, signaling for silence. "Rule Number Five. Dogs are superior to cats, and to all other forms of domestic pets." He paused and waited for her nod of approval.  
  
"Rule Number Six. I am the luckiest man in the four quadrants of this galaxy, and if I ever forget that, I deserve to be spaced."  
  
"And if I ever allow our professional relationship to affect our personal lives, I'm the one who should be sent EVA without a suit." Her arms dropped to her lap as she continued in a whisper, "I've made that mistake before."  
  
He didn't pretend to misunderstand her. "The very first time we encountered the Borg."  
  
She nodded. "You disagreed with a command decision, and I took it as a personal betrayal. And that wasn't the only time." She smiled humorlessly. "All these years, I was afraid to get involved with you, afraid that it would adversely affect the ship. There were some lines that shouldn't be crossed, I said...and as it turned out, I was the one who crossed them."  
  
"Come with me," he said. Taking her hands, he stood and pulled her with him, turning so they faced the window. In the deep night, the embers of the bonfire still glowed, and in the soft light they could see the silhouettes of two or three crew, standing watch. In spite of the chill air, about half a dozen tents had been raised for those who wanted to sleep near the fire. Beyond them, the only way to distinguish the land from the sky was by the stars.  
  
Chakotay stood behind her, then wrapped his arms around her waist as they gazed out at the night. "They're our family, Kathryn, and we have to do our best for them. But we can do it together. I know we can."  
  
She relaxed, just a fraction. "You know it's not going to be easy."  
  
His lips twitched slightly. "Kathryn, nothing about our relationship has ever been what I'd call easy."  
  
She turned in his arms till she was facing him. "In that book which is my memory," she said softly, "on the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you, appear the words ...Here begins a new life."  
  
He recognized the words; she'd lent him her Dante before. His arms tightened and he pressed a kiss to her hair. "We should get some sleep," he said quietly.  
  
Nodding, she pulled free of his embrace but held on to his hand. "Computer, dim lights." Together, they went into the bedroom.  
  
And two seconds later, Chakotay returned. "End entry. Close log."  
  
From the other room, Kathryn laughed softly. "You'll have to edit that tomorrow."  
  
"Just as long as we don't hit the reset button this time," he said, joining her.  
  
"I agree," she said. "From here on in, there's no going back."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom Paris -- jamelia  
Samantha Wildman -- jamelia  
EMH -- Penny  
Jenny Delaney -- fmlyhntr  
Janeway/Chakotay -- Penny & Rocky


	9. Day 8: Prixin Closing Ceremony

  
Prixin: Eighth Day - Closing Ceremony - Stardate 55012  
  
  
This year the entire crew was present for the Prixin closing ceremonies. The captain had given her permission and had also approved the venue.  
  
They were gathered once again around the roaring flames of a magnificent bonfire that had been built in the center of the New Hope compound. The fact that they were planet bound, and the unusual warmth of this particular night on New Hope, had led them to break with tradition and hold the closing ceremonies out of doors. They had feasted, feted and celebrated, and the evening was almost over.  
  
Neelix had spent the night bustling to and fro between the Mess Hall and the festivities, but now he made his way cheerfully through the throng, accepting kudos and compliments as his due. He gestured to Naomi, who was sitting with Icheb and Sam, watching as the sparks from the flame of the fire danced and sparked their way towards the sky. She withdrew herself reluctantly from the warmth of her companions and accompanied Neelix to the outer edge of the haphazard circle that had formed naturally around the fire.  
  
The small table with the Prixin candelabra was prepared and waiting. The candles were melted down to a fraction of their original size, but each one was still burning, protected by small glass lantern covers set carefully into slots carved into the candelabra. Together Neelix and Naomi carried the table easily to the center of the circle.  
  
Janeway, who had been circulating through the crowd all evening with Chakotay at her side, seemed more relaxed than she had been in months, and rumors were starting to emerge. She was aware of them, and of the general reaction to the news of her -- well, she wasn't quite sure what to call it yet -- change in status perhaps? She smiled to herself at the thought. It was definitely that, she decided. A change. She and Chakotay had barely had time to discuss their relationship, it was so new, but they had talked about possible crew responses and what to do about them. Well, she had talked and Chakotay had just sat and listened. Finally, he had placed a finger on her lips to quiet her and said simply "Kathryn, of course they're going to talk. They've talked about us for years. Let them."  
  
He was right, she decided. Let them talk. We'll be a hot topic for a minute or two and then the subject will change.  
  
Neelix appeared at her elbow.  
  
"Captain, are you and the Commander ready?"  
  
"Of course Neelix," she replied immediately "And have I told you how wonderful tonight has been?"  
  
"Yes, Captain," he replied. "You did. But I thank you again."  
  
He handed her the Prixin triangle and beater and she paused for a moment -- watching as the flame from the fire reflected off the silver alloy. Then she raised the instrument above her head and struck it three times. The pure sound penetrated the hum of the crowd and the crackle of the fire easily.  
  
As Janeway, Chakotay, and Neelix approached the ceremonial table, the crowd stilled. "We, _Voyager's_ family of the stars, are gathered tonight to end the festival of Prixin."  
  
Janeway's voice was warm and steady. The crew had drawn together and now formed a tight circle, surrounding the flames of the fire and of the flickering candles.  
  
"Although this is the end of our celebrations, it is the beginning of our future." She reached out and took Chakotay's hand -- surprising herself almost more than anyone else. But it seemed the right and natural thing to do.  
  
"We've traveled many light years since our last celebration, and we have many more to travel before we reach our goal. But now, thanks to each and every member of this community, we are closer to our home in fact and in spirit than ever before."  
  
She looked out at her crew, almost all of whom had followed her example and joined hands, and took a deep breath to calm the rush of emotion that suddenly to threatened to overwhelm her.  
  
"This past week, and tonight, we remember those who are no longer with us; we honor our families and our friends who are with us in person and in spirit; and we celebrate our future and the future of our children." Neelix handed her a candle douser fashioned of the same alloy as the other Prixin ceremonial objects.  
  
She turned to the candelabra and carefully extinguished each candle.

"We douse the candles of Prixin with joy and with sorrow.  
With laughter and with tears.  
We douse the candles of Prixin with trust in tomorrow.  
With hope and with fears.  
We douse the candles of Prixin with pain and with pleasure  
With faith and with pride.  
We'll light more candles for Prixin together. We'll treasure  
The light they provide."

* * *

**  
  
Notes on Prixin: A Holiday of Family**  
  
The Talaxian holiday of Prixin is an eight day celebration of family, whether immediate, extended or honorary. It is a time of reflection, song, dance and food.  
  
A ceremonial candelabra in the shape of an equilateral triangle is used; there is a tall white candle in the center of the triangle, and the three points are marked by shorter candles of red, blue and green. The triangle represents the three aspects of life -- past (Memory); Present (Gratitude) and Future (Hope), anchored in the center by Family.  
  
In Talaxian families, the celebrations last all day for each of the eight days. When the crew of _USS Voyager_ adopted the holiday, some modifications had to be made. Most notably, the celebrations are limited to evening ceremonies and functions.  
  
Food is an important part of Prixin. The traditional foods are roast game, fruit compote in _moolt_ sauce, dusky tubers, and trove bars. Each family adds its own unique and special food to its traditional celebration.  
  
**DAY 1: CONVOCATION**  
  
The Day Of Convocation opens the festival. An elder of the family reads the traditional Opening Blessing and then lights the Family Candle (the white center candle), which will remain burning for the entire 8 days. The family mingles over the evening meal, usually a buffet. It is common (but not ritual) for Prixin songs to be sung this night. "Grab bag" gifts are distributed; everyone must make an item (no replication or store-bought gifts!) and contribute it to the bag, then pull one out. Grab bag gifts are typically small, often humorous, and not made with any particular recipient in mind. Everyone gets a grab bag gift to help start the holiday spirit.  
  
**DAYS 2-3: DAYS OF REMEMBRANCE**  
  
The Days of Remembrance are the most solemn of the festival; it is the time to reflect upon and share memories of those who have died. The Memory Candle (small red candle) is lit by the eldest member of the family at the beginning of Day 2.  
  
On Day 2, the main ceremony is the Recitation. The names of the family members who have died since the previous Prixin are spoken out loud. Sometimes all the names are read by one person; at others, the name of the deceased is spoken by the person who was closest to him or her so that many voices are heard. The Recitation is followed by a formal candlelight dinner which is intended to be reflective; this meal traditionally includes a single glass of red wine. Often there will be a formal musical presentation by the better performers in the family during or after the meal, featuring songs or instrumentals that enhance the mood of solemnity and reflection.  
  
On Day 3, the mood lifts a bit, and the gathering tends to be short. Dinner is informal, with tables arranged in a large circle so everyone can see everyone else. Mashed tubers or game and tuber hash are traditionally on the menu. During the meal, 4 or 5 people take turns standing in the center and relating a story about a deceased member of the family who was special to them. The stories can be inspirational, humorous, wry, or whatever best reflects the point of the story. The story tellers all know of their role in advance so they have a chance to prepare.  
  
**DAYS 4-5: DAYS OF HONORING**  
  
The Days of Honoring are to acknowledge current family members who have particularly touched the family during the past year and typically are the most raucous of the entire festival. On Day 4, the blue Gratitude Candle is lit and a dance is held. There is a buffet on the side and an ample supply of hard cider and other spirits. This is the night that personalized gifts may be exchanged.  
  
On Day 5, the dinner tables are again arranged in a circle so that stories about living family members may be told (usually, no more than 5). These stories all tend to be light, even teasing, although on occasion, someone may slip in an emotional tribute. This night also tends to be short, as celebrants often still feel the effects of the night before. On Voyager, Day 5 is usually dedicated to the crew rather than family in the AQ.  
  
**DAYS 6-7: DAYS OF ANTICIPATION**  
  
The Days of Anticipation celebrate children and the future of the family. The green Renewal Candle is lit.  
  
In Talaxian tradition, the Days of Anticipation revolve around the children, with games and events geared for the youngsters. Day 7 is the day for the announcement of engagements and pregnancies and for the formal induction of infants into the family.  
  
Because of its circumstances, especially the very limited number of children on board, _Voyager_ had to modify the activities. On _Voyager_, the Days of Anticipation tend to be unstructured, apart from the family dinners. Day 6 has become a pot luck dinner using family recipes; no formal ceremony occurs. After dinner, Neelix usually organizes games of charades, cards or other small group activities. Sometimes spontaneous songfests break out.  
  
On Day 7, the children receive special gifts (first Naomi, then Naomi and the Borglets while they were on board). While Neelix has always provided an opportunity for the crew to make announcements, they have been rare until this year, when Miral Paris was formally inducted into the _Voyager_ family and the Paris family's intention to formally adopt Icheb was disclosed. There is also an opportunity to tell stories about family back in the AQ, especially since regular contact with Starfleet has become available. On this day, the crew are encouraged to share their "New Year's resolutions."  
  
**DAY 8: Closing Ceremony**  
  
The Closing ceremony is short. After dinner, family stands in a circle and links arms or holds hands; the Prixin hymn is sung, and the elder who read the Opening Blessing recites the Closing Benediction and extinguishes the four candles.  
  
Penny_P  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Closing Ceremony -- CyberMum  
Notes: Prixin: a Holiday of Family -- Penny

**Author's Note:**

> Prelude (Christmas): A Reason for the Season: by Andra  
Prixin:  
Day 1: Falon Col (Penny_P), Naomi & Neelix (CyberMum), Convocation (Cybermum )  
Day 2: Joe Carey (fmlyhntr), Sarexa (Penny_P), Neelix (CyberMum), Harry Kim (Jamelia)  
Day 3: B'Elanna (Juli17), Tuvok (Rocky)  
Day 4: Chakotay (Penny_P)  
Day 5: Icheb (CyberMum)  
Day 6: Janeway (Rocky), Noah Lessing (Penny_P)  
Day 7: Jenny Delaney (fmlyhntr), Tom Paris & Samantha Wildman (Jamelia), EMH (Penny_P), Janeway/Chakotay (Penny_P & Rocky)  
Day 8: Closing Ceremony (Cybermum)  
Notes: Prixin: A Holiday of Family (Penny_P)
> 
> Next: Into the Night. It's time. After nearly 6 months on New Hope, _Voyager_ is ready to start the next stage of her journey home. Well, almost ready.


End file.
